THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


! 


8.  F.  McLeAN.  BOOKSELLER. 


THE  SUNFLOWER, 


THE 


OR, 


BT   ff,    ?&ST«HBH 


"The  heart  that  has  truly  loved  never  forgets, 

But  as  truly  loves  on  to  the  close. 
As  the  sunflower  turns  on  her  god  when  he  sets, 

The  same  look  which  she  did  when  he  rose." 

— MOOKE. 


PLANO,    ILLINOIS. 

PRINTED  AT  TIIK  HKI:AI.I>  STKAM   BOOK  AND  JOB  OKFK  K. 
1881. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1881,  by 

J.  FLETCHER   HOLLISTEB, 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at 
Washington. 


J*7 


Tins  work  is  affectionately  dedicated: — 

1st.  To  his  Dear  Wife.  Sharley  Emeline,  the  faithful  friend 
and  sharer  of  both  his  -orio\v>  and  his  joys. 

3d.    To  his  friends — with  the  good  regards  that  the  gift  implies. 

3d.  To  all  those  who  desire  to  read  it — with  a  wish  for  their 
pleasure,  and  perchance,  profit. 

4th.     To  his  enemies,  if  then-  are  such. 

5th.  And  lastly,  To  those  "Who  for  lack  of  sense,  turn  critics 
in  their  own  deft  use."— (Pope).  As  he  always  will,  "His  de 
fects  to  know,  make  use  of  every  friend  and  every  foe." 

BY  THE  AUTHOR. 


762995 


"Paint  me  us  I  am." — Cromwell. 

IN  publishing  a  book  great  or  small,  it  is  customary  to  insert 
a  preface  setting  forth  the  scope  and  design  of  the  work.  This 
work  assumes  very  little  of  scope,  and  less  of  design.  As  was 
said  by  a  Prince  of  Poets,  (Burns) : 

"Some  rhyme  a  neebor's  name  to  lash; 
Some  rhyme  (vain  tho't)  for  needfu1  cash ; 
Some  rhyme  to  catch  the  country  clash, 
And  raise  a  din; 
For  me,  an  aim  I  never  fash : 

I  rhyme  for  fun." 
Therefore  more  need  not  be  said  thereon. 

The  following  pieces,  whatever  their  merit — if  any — were 
written  as  occasional  and  mere  wayside  trifles,  as  circumstance  or 
incident  gave  occasion:  yet  upon  reflection  they,  or  gome  of  them, 
seem  to  point  a  moral;  some  to  express  a  sentiment;  some  to 
indulge  a  whimsey,  and  some  even  do  "give  aid  and  comfort"  to 
honor  and  patriotism :  ever  keeping  in  view  the  true  dignity  and 
higher  welfare  of  humanity.  The  work,  miscellaneous  as~it  is, 
imparts  the  thought,  sentiment  and  feeling  of  its  author,  express 
ed  in  his  own  language ;  and  is  published  to  please  himself,  and 
also  his  friends  who  have  often  importuned  him  with :  "Why  don't 
you  get  your  poems  published.-'1 

THE  AUTHOR. 


».«.,: 

Page 

My  Childhood's  Home           

1 

Fame 

10 

True  Happiness                      —                     — 

11 

Envy                                                      — 

12 

Summer  Shower                     ....                      

14 

Lines  on  Hearing  a  Watch,  &c. 

15 

Fleeting  Summer                   — 

18 

Supplement  to  Fleeting  Summer      

19 

Lines                                        — 

20 

Liberty  Song                                        — 

*> 

Life 

....          23 

To  the  Tippler 

Temperance  Jubilee              —                     

•il 

My  Wife 

26 

Fashionables                           

27 

Equality                                                

28 

Ethics  of  Trade 

29 

Soliloquy                                                 

30 

Obedience                                

30 

x                                            INDEX. 

The  Forsaken's  Lament                      

31 

Faith,  Hope,  Love                  .... 

34 

The  Graves                                            

35 

The  Ox 

36 

Happy  Fire  Side                                   

36 

A  Lament                                 .... 

37 

Spring  Morning                                    ....                      .... 

38 

Freedom's  Star                       

40 

A  Chapter  on  Bickerings                    

41 

Varieties                                   .... 

•U 

The  Dandy 

43 

The  Kindly                               

44 

Dedication  of  Album                            

45 

Prairie  Girl                               

46 

Folly  and  Fun                                        

47 

Elegy  on  the  Death  of  Charles  Madison  Carver 

48 

Youth 

52 

The  Neglected  Boy                 ...                      

52 

Country  vs.  City;  Nature  vs.  Art 

53 

To  a  Brother  Rhymer,—  O.  Fuller                    

55 

Bloomers                                                ....                      .... 

61 

Our  Tobacco  Chewing  Parson                          

63 

Biped  Tobacco  Worms                         

64 

Priestly  Religion                    ....                      .... 

66 

Wlio  is  the  Murdered  Wife                 

66 

The  Old  Wife  And  the  New                             

68 

The  Women                                           

69 

INDEX. 


The  Guardian  (seven)  — 

To  Ella 
This  Age 

The  Sleepy  Baby  

The  Supreme  

Be  True  to  Thyself  

Come  to  the  Concert  

Welcome  to  Our  Returning  Soldiers 

Epic  of  Madam  Grimdy          

K  veiling  Hymn  

The  Spirit  of  Man  Never  Grows  Old 

Our  Christinas  Dinner  

A  Thought 

Guardians  

Couplet  

My  Mountain  Home  

A  Kiddle  .   .. 

Chewing  Gum  — 

Money  .... 

Rich 

l)\  inur  Body's  Adieu  to  Its  Departing  Spirit 


70 
72 
73 
75 
76 
78 
79 
82 
84 
104 
IOC 
108 
112 
112 
114 
118 
116 
117 
119 
123 
124 


MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 


Sweet  Home  of  my  Childhood — dear  land  of  my  birth! 

Thy  beauties  in  dream  I  survey, 
And  revel  in  pictures  that  glow  round  that  hearth 

Where  rocked  in  the  cradle  I  lay; 
No  spot  so  enchanting  upon  the  green  earth, 

So  richly  in  memory  hung, 
As  that  where  my  tongue  in  its  juvenile  mirth, 

Its  first  prattling  melodies  sung. 

There  stood  my  native  wood-built  cot,* 
And  suited  to  the  charming  spot, 

Remote  from  city  strife ; 
Without,  were  thrift  and  order  spread, 
Within,  domestic  comforts  shed 

Their  rustic  beams  o'er  life. 

In  front  and  just  across  the  way, 

A  time-browned  ''Still"'!'  did  antic  play 

Its  pranks  with  old  and  young: 
Three  drams  or  more  a  day,  at  least, 
Were  modish  then;  thus  even  the  Priest 

Inspired  his  godly  tongue. 

*  See  Note  1.        f  See  Note  •>. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


It  stood  unblushing  on  a  brink;* 

Fit  place,  as  mortals  crazed  with  drink 

Soon  found  the  ditch  below. 
I  saw  not  then  the  ruin  dire, 
The  crispings  of  its  liquid  fire, 

Its  sure  entail  of  woe !  • 

My  father's  patient  toil  and  skill 
Built  the  old  fashioned  cider-mill  -f 

With  circled  trough  and  wheel; 
The  massive  wheel  its  circuits  rolled 
In  ponderous  rounds,  till  Winter's  cold 

The  laggard  ' -cheese"  congeal. 


"66'' 


Came  there  the  plodding  farmers  round, 
"In  turn"  to  occupy  the  ground, — 

"For  so  the  order  stood — 
With  clumsy  carts,  some  iron  stayed, 
And  some  more  clumsy  still,  were  made 

Exclusively  of  wood. 

These  laden  deep  and  oxen  drawn, 

To  evening's  shade  from  morning's  dawn, 

Each  creaking  'neath  its  load 
Of  apples,  straw,  and  barrels  void, 
In  prior  years  filled  and  enjoyed, 

Came  trundling  'long  the  road. 

The  apples  in  the  "bed"  were  stored, 
And  piecemeal  in  the  wheeltrack  poured; 

"Old  Dobbin"  cherup  told, 
Tugged,  with  his  antique  -'tackling"  prest, 
Against  the  belt  across  his  breast, 

And  round  the  engine  rolled. 

*  Of  a  spring-run  near  the  house.        f  See  Note  3. 


MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 


Freebooter  like,  I  ran  the  ground, 

And  culled  and  munched  the  best  1  found, 

Or  plied  the  magic  '-straw  * 
To  barrel,  tub,  and  rill,  and  press; 
And  sipped  and  swigged  till  sore  distress 

Would  seize  my  burdened  maw. 

'Twas  tinder  to  my  childish  pride, 
When  seniors  lifted  me  to  ride 

Astride  the  sweeping  shaft; 
The  scene  my  infant  bosom  fired, 
Not  more  of  glory  I  desired, 

And  deep  the  goblet  quaffed. 

(An  Autocrat  uii<rht  seize  the  helm 
Of  State,  the  Traverse  his  realm, 

The  Sun  itself  his  throne; 
And  Empires  tremble  at  his  nod, 
Own  him  a  Caesar  or  a  god, 

'Twas  nothing  to  my  own! 

Yes;  I  was  greater,  happier  far, 
Than  Sultan,  President,  or  Czar; 

I  Jived!  and  life  was  bliss. 
My  guileless  soul,  worth  millions  more 
Than  power,  or  fame,  or  uolden  store, 

Had  never  gone  amiss.) 

But,  ah!  J  sometimes  lost  my  poise, 
And  from  that  pinnacle  of  joys 

Fell  tumbling  headlong  down, 
Like  sundry  children  older  grown, 
[Some  call  them  kin<jx]  flying  their  throne, 

Their  kingdom,  and  their  crown. 

*  See  Note  4. 


THE  SUNFLO\V  !•:!;. 


This  closed  the  scene — a  tragic  close! — 
With  bruises  and  a  bleeding  nose, 

Wrought  by  the  sad  mishap; 
Crest  fallen  "Johnny"  sobbing  went 
To  give  his  bursting  bosom  vent 

In  "mother's"  soothing  lap. 

Dear  mother!  blessings  be  thy  share, 
For  watching,  toiling,  ceaseless  care! 

And  happy  rest  thy  soul ! 
Thy  chidings  are  as  vivid  now, 
Though  time  has  chiseled  deep  my  brow, 

As  when  I  truant  stole 

To  paddle  in  the  gutter  stream. — 
Ah!  life  was  then  a  flowery  dream, 

Turmoil  and  grief  unknown. 
I  knew  not  then  misfortune's  smart, 
Which  since  has  blighted  head  and  heart, 

And  left  them  sere  and  lone. 

The  "gutter"  was  my  darling  rill, 
Sprung  from  adjacent  granite  hill 

In  leaping,  laughing  chase. 
How  oft  its  current  clear  I  riled 
With  fickle  sands  and  pebbles  piled, 

To  head  its  wonted  chase! 

Lone  chestnuts,  shagbarks,  oaks  and  elms, 
Grand  Sachems  of  their  forest  realms, 

Spared  by  the  axman's  arm, 
For  fruit,  or  ornament,  or  shade, 
As  fancy  or  the  senses  swayed, 

Stood  waving  o'er  the  farm. 


MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 


Soft  maples,  natives  of  the  swales, 
As  if  to  woo  the  kissing  gales, 

Upturn  their  silvery  leaves; 
Among  their  mossy  branches  gray, 
The  chittering  squirrels  antics  play, 

The  robin  her  palace  weaves. 

That  one  across  the  way,  in  Spring 
Crowned  with  its  scarlet  blossoming, 

Gay  orchestra  for  birds, 
Pavilion  charmingly  attuned, 
Where  heart  with  kindred  heart  communed 

In  love's  untutored  words. 

Not  barren  trees  that  idly  stood, 
Stern  relics  of  primeval  wood, 

Dotting  the  manor  o'er; 
But  fruits  of  every  taste  and  hue, 
Which  on  the  trees  and  brambles  grew, 

The  queen  attraction  bore. 

There  grew  the  apple  and  the  pear, 
The  currant,  cherry,  plum,  were  there. 

For  more  would  relish  call  ? 
There,  native  grapes  in  blue  and  white, 
Some  climbing  to  the  elm  tree's  height, 

Some  creeping  on  the  wall. 

Would  more? — there  hung  the  luscious  peach, 
Inviting  in  the  finger's  re:ich. 

To  crown  the  tempting  list. 
What  epicure  would  ever  seek 
More  than  devour  its  blushing  cheek, 

By  Beauty's  goddess  kissed? 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Those  fruits,  my  father  planted  them, 
And  careful  nursed  each  fragile  stem 

That  bent  beneath  the  storms. 
He  sowed  the  grass-plot  by  the  door, 
And  set  the  picket  fence  before, 

To  ward  intruding  forms. 

With  playthings  gathered  on  the  "stair,"* 
I  whittled»sticks  and  fingers  there, 

In  tune  with  mother's  wheel ;"f 
Or  marked  the  glowing  stithy  fire, 
Where  Vulcan-like,  iny  artful  sire 

New  formed  the  candent  steel. 

Alert,  when  sisters  milking  went;| 

Or  o'er  their  scythes  when  brothers  bent, 

Or  stowed  the  smothering  mow, 
I  capered,  tumbled,  shouted  meet, 
Went  berrying,  or  cooled  my  feet 

In  furrows  'hind  the  plow. 

Thus  passes  childhood's  giddy  hour, 
Woven  of  shadow,  sheen  and  shower : 

Like  puss  or  poodle  pet; 
A  cumbrance  if  sweet  love  has  not 
Its  biding  place  in  Home's  dear  spot, 

And  Hope's  bright  Altar  set. 

Now  came  the  motley  district  schools, 
Resort  for  congregating  fools. 

Close  by  the  '-Old  Red  Church," 
Where  Pedngogues  for  want  of  sense, 
Assumed  dictation  to  dispense 

Their  ignorance  and  birch. || 

*  See  Note  5.  f  See  Note  6.  J  See  Note  7.  1  See  Note  8. 


HY  CHILDHOOD'S  IK  >.}!/•;. 


There  every  stage  of  youthful  age 
Gluumied  o'er  some  musty,  tattered  page, 

As  tardy  sessions  passed, 
Or  restless  urchins  sly  at  play, 
The  irksome  hours  whiled  away, 

And  glad  to  see  the  last, 

When  surging  forces  chained  and  pent, 
And  passions  may  their  tumult  vent 

In  rowdy,  rampant  spree. — 
"Dismissed!" — And  how  in  clamor — scream! 
Their  postering  life's  upheaving  steam 

Exploded  instantly! 

In  Summer,  to  the  romping  shade; 
In  Winter  to  the  icy  glade, 

They  helter  skelter  sped; 
To  scuffle  off  activity, 
Or  coast  some  bold  declivity, 

By  dashing  ][<rt<»-  led. 

Adown  he  drives — ashies  and  shakes — 
Locks  whizzing  in  the  gale  he  makes — 

Hat  frighted  flies  his  crown — 
His  quivering  sled  half  leaping  flies, 
Yet  friendly  star  the  nadder  plies 
'    And  lights  him  safely  down. 

Others  rush  down  the  treacherous  track — 
HreN  over  liend — on  face  or  hack. 

.leered  liy  the  shouting  crowd — 
To  siiKish  their  noddles  in  the  crust, 
Or  smother  in  the  whirling  dust. 

The  drift  their  shivering:  shroud. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


More  wary,  others  bring  their  sleds 
To  gentler  slopes  as  caution  bids, 

And  fortune  on  their  side  ; 
While  wee  ones  shun  the  steeper  glare 
And  seek  the  safer  levels,  where 

Their  feet  may  gaily  slide. 

Those  mossy  walls* — outreaching  piles 
Of  granite  winrows  running  miles, 

Cutting  the  lands  with  gray; 
Enduring  hints  of  fore-sires'  toils, 
Defying  time's  and  sea-son's  spoils — 

Bound  garden,  field  and  way. 

That  blest  "Old  Garden"f — hallowed  soil! 
Where  grandsire  in  his  youth  did  toil 

And  won  an  honest  crust; 
Upon  those  relics  close  beside 
Stood  shelter  where  he  lived  and  died 

Full  ripe  in  years  and  trust. 

Those  mossy  bounds  of  rustic  yore ; 
That  ruined  celL^  were  old  before 

I  drew  my  natal  breath, 
And  head  and  hand  that  built  them  there 
By  lifelong  labor,  skill  and  care, 

Lay  still  and  cold  in  death. 

The  {'hackmatack"||  he  planted  near, 
Memento  of  affection  dear, 

And  relrc  of  his  pains. 
Still  waves  its  mystic  triumph  there, 
Uplooking  to  that  country  where 

Perennial  Summer  reigns. 

*  See  Note  9.    f  See  Note  10.    J  See  Note  11.     ]|  See  Note  12. 


MY  CHILDHOOD'S  HOME. 


I  love  the  spot  where  first  my  life 
Was  ushered  on  this  scene  of  strife, 

To  swell  the  active  throng; 
I  love  thy  fields  of  flocks  and  herds, 
I  love  thy  sky  where  songster  birds 

Their  worship  pour  in  song. 

I  love  thy  trees  and  rocks  and  rills; 
Thy  blooming  vales  and  rugged  hills 

In  graceful  contrast  stand; 
I  love  thy  lofty  mountain  steeps, 
Where  nature  in  fantastic  heaps, 

Piled  up  her  pristine  sand. 

I  love  thy  springs  which  gush  and  gleam 
Their  laughing  tribute  to  the  stream 

That  ripples  through  the  dell; 
Eager  my  thirsty  lips  partook 
From  them,  or  from  the  purling  brook, 

Or  from  the  in-door  well. 

I  love  the  cot  where  comfort  dwelt, 
There  parents  dear  devoted  knelt 

Communing  with  their  God; 
There  honored  they  the  King  of  Kings, 
And  'neath  the  shadow  of  His  wings, 

The  paths  of  meekness  trod. 

With  kindly  parent  care  caressed, 
And  just  half-dozen  Summers  blest, 

I  left  that  native  soil.* 
Bound  west,  the  youngest  of  the  clan 
That  watched  my  footsteps  up  to  man, 

And  taught  me  how  to  toil. 

*  Se«  Note  13. 


10  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


But  ah!  how  changed  life's  drama  now! 
Time's  plowed  his  furrows  'cross  my  brow, 

Decay  pervades  my  frame; 
My  sun  of  youth  approaches  night, 
And  life's  unsettled,  lambent  light, 

Burns  with  a  feeble  flame. 

Though  exiled  on  this  western  plain,* 
Fond  recollection  wakes  the  strain, 

Enchantment  of  the  past: 
0,  halcyon  hour  of  childhood's  glee! 
Fond  memory  will  hallow  thee 

So  long  as  memory  last. 

LITTLE  ROCK,  Kendall  County,  Ills.,  1844. 


FAME. 


What  is  Fame?     A  bubble  bright, 
Fancy  lit  in  others'  breath, — 

Flinging  jack -o  lantern  light, 
Lures  ambition  on  to  death. 

Why  will  silly  mortals  toil 

Half  distracted  thus  for  show? 

Can  Fame  proffer  for  their  moil 
Haifa  recompense  below! — 

*  See  Note  14. 


TRUE  HAPPINESS.  11 


Empty  titles! — crowns  of  state! — 
Handles  of  consuming  care — 

Where's  your  final  vaunt,  ye  ureat? 
Taunting  echo  answers,  "Where!" 


TRUE  HAPPINESS. 


A  question  long  in  hot  dispute — 

Enigma  none  could  guess — 
"Where  is  it?" — as  in  k  en  pursuit 

Was  sought  TRUE  HAPPINESS. 

I  asked  the  monarch  on  his  throne, 

If  royalty  was  bliss'/ 
"Nay.  nay."  said  he  in  anxious  tone, 

"Here's  no  True  Happiness!" 

I  asked  the  warrior  in  the  field, 

In  gory  glory's  dress: 
What  does  your  pomp  and  carnage  yield  ? 

"Ah — no  True  Happin 

I  sought  the  miser  in  his  cell, 

[{(•counting  his  increa-r  ; 
His  woful  litok  the  tale  did  tell, 
He'd  no  True  Happiness. 

I  asked  the  thoughtless,  vain  and  gay — 

Their  idle  answer  tins: 
uWe  eat  and  drink  and  rise  to  play." 

This  your  True  Happiness  ! 


1 2  THE  S  UNFL  0  WER. 


I  sought  the  peasant  in  his  cot — 
Sure  there  no  grief  cou'd  press : 

"I've  peace  and  plenty,  but  have  not 
Yet  found  True  Happiness!" 

I  asked  the  saint  who  long  had  trod 

In  Bible  holiness? 
"Not  now,  not  here — in  heaven  and  God 

I  hope  True  Happiness." 

I  turned  to  him  who  tills  the  ground 
Of  Wisdom,  Truth  and  Love? 

"These  virtues  my  delightful  bound, 
And  conscience  to  approve, 

My  cup,"  said  he,  "a  brimming  joy 

Of  purity  and  peace; 
They  all  my  time  and  thought  employ, 

And  win  True  Happiness. 

These  Triune  Graces. — hail  their  sway  ! — 

Undying  Savior  given 
To  light  and  smooth  life's  checkered  way, 

And  earth  transform  to  heaven!" 


ENVY. 


Oh!  horrid  Envy! — execrable  thing! — 
A  hell-born  child,  offspring  legitimate ! 
Wrinkled  and  haggard  and  grown  gray  with  near 
Six  thousand  years  of  unrelenting  greed  ! 


ENV7.  13 


Tireless  and  sateless  thus  she  marches  on, 
Flinging  her  blight  o'er  all  the  social  plan, 
'Whelming  the  loveliest  tokens  of  our  race 

In  common  ruin ! 

Envy! — that  hateful  name,  exceeding  vile! 
The  chief  of  all  the  diabolic  train 
Of  hellish  fiends  within  the  range  of  thought; 
That  harrows  nature's  indignations  up 

To  tempest  wild ! 

Ah — who  can  look  fell  Envy  in  the  face, 
Or  taste  the  venom  of  her  aspen  tongue. 

And  not  the  loser  be  ! — 
For  when  she  takes  j>  >-><'->ion  of  a  heart, 
She  quick  pursues  the  victim  of  her  ire, 
With  unrelenting  zeal  and  hate  and  wrath 

And  rage  unmitigated! 
She  stalks  abroad  a  most  flagitions  li 
Whose  eyes  of  vengeance  dire  and  whose  knit  brow 
Bespeak  malignity  that  reigns  within; 
Whose  venoined  tongue  a  fatal  dagger  is; 
Whose  shriveled  lips  but  hide  a  catacomb 
Where  lie  ingulphed  her  wretched  victims  low; 
Wh'  se  nostrils  fume  with  vapors  from  the  pit 
Whence  she  proceeded,  and  whence  all  our  woes 

First  emanated ! 

Her  breath  is  foul,  her  very  atmosphere 
Is  foul — polluted  with  the  s-tygian  stench! 
She  never  .</////'*  but  seeing  others'  woes; 
When  others  smile  ln-r  n  / //  i //>.•<  \r>,  p  blood! 


14  77/7';  SUNFL 0  WER. 


SUMMER  SHOWER. 


Hark! — the  tumult,  splash  and  spatter 

On  the  panes; 
Sprinkling,  dashing — what's  the  matter! 

What? — it  rains! 

There  some  drops  are  quiet  sleeping; 
There  some  others  stealthy  creeping; 
There — see  others  antic  leaping — 

Yes,  it  rains. 

Not  an  urchin  out  at  playing 

Can  be  seen ; 
Lambs  and  cattle  heedless  straying 

O'er  the  green, 

Now  are  scudding  helter-skelter, 
From  the  storm's  terrific  pelter, 
To  the  shed  or  thicket  shelter, 

Or  ravine. 

Nor  is  seen  a  song  bird  flying 

From  her  nest, 
Though  in  garb  of  nature's  buying 

Is  she  drest; 

Nor  is  heard  a  vocal  strain 
From  creation's  plural  train; 
Music  of  the  hill  and  plain 

Hushed  to  rest. 

Lightnings  glare,  and  booming  thunder 

Shake  the  hill; 
Thirsty  leaf  and  chalice  under. 

Drink  their  fill; 


W.MMER  SHOWER.  15 


In  the  driving  tempest  roaring 
Now  are  heaven's  torrents  pouring, 
Now  in  gentle  mizzle  lowering 
Soft  and  still. 

Ardent  nature  now  is  quenching 

All  her  thirst, — 
Wary  plowmen  dreading  drenching, 

Scampered  erst, — 
Grateful  earth  the  bounty  blessing, 
Teeming  fields  the  boon  confessing, 
In  their  hues  of  Eden  dressing 

Fresh  as  first. 

For  this  hour  storm  curtains  dense 

Veiled  the  blue, 
Lo,  what  richer  recompense 

Greets  the  view! 

Sol  returns  and  beaming  brighter, — 
Larks  and  robins  winging  lighter, — 
Lilies  washed  and  all  the  whiter, 

All  seem  new. 


LINES 

On  hearing  a  watch  ticking  in  a  lady's  bosom. 


Ah,  little  prattler, 
Fashioned  by  art, 

Ungallant  tattler, 
Spy  of  the  heart! 


16  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


What  are  the  messages, 
Breathed  in  thy  ears — 

Hopings  or  presages, 
Trustings  or  fears? 

Say,  wast  thou  bidden  there 

Welcome,  a  guest? 
Or  cosy  hidden  there, 

Cuddled  to  rest  ? 
Tell  as  you  reckon  on, 

Does  love  beguile? — 
Has  she  a  Corydon 

Courting  her  smiles? 

Comes  there  no  sadness  near 

Where  you  recline? 
Ever  does  gladness  cheer? 

Can  she  not  pine? 
Does  ne'er  that  bosom  heave 

Griefs  silent  throes? — 
Does  that  heart  never  grieve 

O'er  secret  woes? 

Is  virtue  reigning  there? 

Does  truth  adorn? 
No  folly  staining  there? 

Is  there  no  thorn? 
Are  her  days  sunny  all — 

Is  there  no  gloom  ? — 
Sips  she  no  bitter  gall 

At  dear  one's  tomb  ? 

"Ah!  captious  visitor, 
Silence  your  theme ! 


A   WATCH  TICKING.  17 


Play  not  inquisitor 

Into  her  dream. 
Foibles  of  womankind 

Lenient  scan; 
Faults  of  the  humankind 

Tarnish  thee,  man! 

"I've  not  intruded  here, 

True  is  my  tongue, 
Nor  been  deluded  here, 

Thoughtless  as  young; 
Emily  lovingly 

Gave  me  the  place, 
Never  reprovingly 

Shuts  her  embrace. 

"Virtue  and  purity 

Blush  not  for  me, 
Theirs  the  security 

Wanton  ones  flee; 
Thus  in  simplicity, 

Stranger  to  strife 
Rich  in  felicity 

Passes  my  life. 

"Such  of  my  history 

Freely  I  tell; 
Hers  in  its  mystery 

Better  to  dwell; 
Ne'er  shall  my  vanity 

Cause  her  to  weep, 
Friends  of  humanity 

Counsels  will  keep. 

"Hers  is  variety, 
This  I  disclose, 


18  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Pleased  to  satiety, 
Sorrowed  with  woes, 

Sore  melancholy 
Grieving  in  fears, 

Gay  fun  and  folly 
Laughing  in  tears." 


FLEETING  SUMMER. 


Summer's  realm  is  passing  away, 

Dims  her  eye  a  lingering  tear; 
Hues  that  shone  but  yesterday  gay, 

Now  are  sallow,  and  brown,  and  sere. 
Dashing  round  his  saddening  shade, 

Autumn  now  the  scepter  assumes; 
Urging  on  his  plundering  trade 

Spoiling  Earth  of  Eden's  perfumes. 

Flora  fresh  with  amorous  balm, 

To  his  feet  her  offering  brings, 
Yielding  up  her  flowery  palm. 

While  the  "AWe"*  her  requiem  sings. 
Corn  that  reared  its  tasseled  head, 

Vines  that  crept  in  lowly  array, 
Peas  that  twined  and  blossomed  are  dead, 

So  the  Summer  is  passing  away. 

Hoar-frost  sports  his  ruinous  sheen, 

Bleak  winds  growl  their  threatening  wail, 

Cowering  landscapes  barter  their  green, 
Don  in  turn  their  sorrowing  veil. 

*    Katy-did. 


FLEETING  SUMMER.  19 


From  the  trees  their  livery  drops, 
Rudely  to  their  mouldering  cast; 

Lone  and  long  their  quivering  tops 
Wave  beneath  the  wintry  blast. 

Birds  hie  off,  deserting  our  clime, 

Clime  where  Winter  is  king  so  long, 
Where  May  notes  perennial  chime, 

Chime  in  love's  t-yuiphonious  song. 
Thus  creation's  varying  throng, 

Scenes  and  seasons  gloomy  and  bright, 
Doomed,  are  trailing  tatters  along. 

Marching  on  to  interminate  night. 

Thus  Old  Time  is  rushing  his  team; 

So  our  life-hour  hurries  away, 
Gone  our  years  like  story  or  dream, 

Dream  of  a  moment,  glimpse  of  a  day. 
But  adieu  to  them  and  their  pain; 

When  our  winter  o.f  life  appears, 
If  we  but  an  Eden  regain. 

Cliuie  unmeasured  by  change  of  years. 


SUPPLEMENT. 

Again  returns  the  story 
Of  Summer's  fading  glory, 
In  purple,  brown,  and  hoary. 

And  chilly  storm  and  gust: 
The  Old  Lady  hushes  gladness, 
(Yet  to  repine  is  madn< 
And  dons  her  weeds  of  sadness, 

New-dyed  in  Autumn  rust. 


20  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Spring  that  was  so  inviting. 
And  Summer  so  delighting, 
Autumn  is  now  affrighting 

With  ruin  chill  and  drear. 
The  vine  has  lost  its  cluster, 
The  corn  its  green  and  luster — 
Ah,  Nature !  who  can  trust  her 

Deceitful  smile  or  tear! 

But  time  its  steps  are  hasting; 

As  vegetations,  wasting 

By  Autumn's  prowess,  tasting 

Complete  return  to  earth. 
So,  soon  will  artful  Nature 
Renew  each  cunning  feature, 
Replace  each  dying  creature 

With  April's  charming  birth. 


LINES. 


Let  crowned  and  mitred  heads  abide, 
Beneath  their  figment,  Royalty, 

From  all  their  pageantry  and  pride 
Deliver  me! 

Let  dukes  and  highborn  fools  invite 
To  costly  banquets  proudly  given, 

Whose  luxuries  without  requite 
From  serfs  are  riven. 

Let  idle  nabobs  loll  at  ease, 

And  win  the  vulgar  gaping  gaze, 


LINES.  21 


Can  mind  regale  upon  a  breeze 
Of  heartless  praise ! 

The  sordid  miser  anxious  keeps 
Keen  vigil  o'er  his  wasting  trust; 

Let  him, — his  god  is  in  his  heaps 
Of  cankering  dust! 

I  deprecate  his  sordid  pains; — 

I  spurn  their  titled  dignities. — 
I  love  where  equal  justice  reigns, 

And  Freedom  is. 

I  love  the  man  who  tills  the  soil, 
With  no  temptations  far  to  roam, 

Providing  with  his  cheerful  toil 
For  his  "sweet  home." 

Around  his  ingle  free  of  strife, 

His  life  a  peaceful  river  runs; 
Where  happy  are  his  bonny  wife 

And  little  ones. 

He  scorns  ambition's  fickle  nod, 

And  bids  each  showy  fantom  "hence  I" 

His  guide  is  Nature,  Nature's  God 
And  common  sense. 

Thus  his  felicities  increase, 

Though  years  increasing  dim  his  eyes, 
Preparing  for  a  home  of  peace 

In  purer  skies.  1845> 


22  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


LIBERTY  SONG. 

TUNE. — Burlington. 

Awake  all  ye  Freemen  and  hear  the  glad  story, 
And  swell  with  emotion  each  patriot  breast! 

The  vile  blot  that  darkened  the  disk  of  our  glory, 
Is  biding  the  Voter's  behest. 

Their  heralds  are  crying  on  wings  of  the  morning, 
Nor  shall  their  entreaties  be  uttered  in  vain, 

For  thousands  on  thousands  are  heeding  the  warning, 
And  plead  for  the  suffering  train. 

Speed  on,  ye  bright  heralds  of  Emancipation  ! 

And  spread  the  glad  tidings  of  Freedom's  bright  day: 
That  from  this  exalted,  this  sturdy  young  nation, 

Oppression  is  fleeing  away. 

Ye  slaves  of  the  South,  turn  your  anguish  to  laughter, 
And  dry  up  the  fountains  that  furnish  your  tears, 

For  Freedom's  sweet  song  shall  employ  you  hereafter, 
And  none  shall  torment  you  with  fears. \ 

The  lash  of  the  master  shall  echo  no  longer, 
The  wail  of  the  slave-mother  ever  shall  cease; 

Men's  hearts  and  the  Nation's  grow  stronger  and 

stronger, 
As  the  slave  walks  to  freedom  and  peace. 

Will  minstrels  sit  longer  in  sorrow  ! — No — never  ! 

The  dirge  has  already  employed  them  too  long, 
They'll  render  thanksgiving  and  praises  forever 

In  chanting  the  ''Liberty  Song." 


LIFE.  23 


Unite  then,  each  Freeman,  in  raptures  of  pleasure, 
The  chorus  of  Freedom  falls  sweet  on  the  ear, — 

Unite  in  thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  treasure 

Of  freedom  to  Freemen  so  dear.  1844. 


LIFE. 


Lo  !  the  busy  breathing  throng, 

Sporting  in  the  beams  of  day  ! 
Pleasure's  sunshine  a'l  d;iy  long 

Steals  their  cares  and  pains  away. 
Loves  of  action  and  of  ease 

In  all  right  relation-*  tend; 
Labor,  pastime  equal  please, 

Equal  serve  the  pleasing  end. 

God  did  plant  it — and  it  grew — 

Something  high  o'er  base  control 
Filling  every  avenue 

Of  the  body,  spirit,  soul  : 
This  is  LTPK  !  a  magic  dower — 

Life  diffused  throughout,  above; 
Bird  that  in  each  bosom's  bower, 

Sings  its  rhapsodies  of  love. 

So,  as  myriad  sentient  things 
Mingle  in  the  merry  strife, 

Happiness  spontaneous  sprii 
From  each  element  of  life  : 

Sense  and  sight  awak^  the  strain, 

I'a.-sioii  warms  the  throbbing  breast, 


24  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Thought  directs  the  teeming  train, 
Ruled  by  reason's  high  behest. 

That  is  Life  where  every  power 

Its  organic  plan  fulfills  ; 
In  the  sweet  and  tinted  flower, 

Cup  where  nectar  dew  distils; 
In  the  daisy  on  the  mountain; 

In  the  verdure  on  the  trees; 
In  the  pearly  gushing  fountain  ; 

In  the  fragrance  of  the  breeze; 

In  the  acorn  that's  buried 

Beneath  the  wood  s  >il ; 
In  the  seeds  that  are  planted 

By  husbandman's  toil; 
In  the  herbage  that  carpets 

The  prairie  and  lawn, 
Where  sport  in  wild  freedom 

The  rabbit  and  fawn; 

In  the  bear  in  the  forest ; — 

The  wolf  in  the  ledge; 
In  the  lamb  on  the  meadow, — 

The  mouse  in  the  hedge; 
In  the  frog  in  the  puddle — 

The  rail  in  the  brake; 
The  trout  by  the  ripple, 

The  duck  on  the  lake; 

In  the  dove's  mellow  cooing, 

The  lark's  merry  theme, 
In  the  robin's  sweet  wooing, 

In  the  eagle's  wild  scream, 
Through  earth,  air  and  ocean  of  permeant  life, 

All  Nature  with  pleasure  of  being  is  rife. 


TEMPERANCE  J  UBILEE.  25 


TO  THE  TIPPLER. 


Though  the  goblet  so  witchingly  lure, 

Spurn  it,  for  infamy  lurks  in  the  bowl? 
There  a  Syren  while  proffering  cure, 

Plunges  her  dart  in  the  stultified  soul. 
Filled  is  her  beaker  with  complicate  sorrow 

Though  flaunting  around  with  enticing  display 
Her  sweets  of  to-day  become  woes  of  to-morrow, 

Her  venom  like  viper's  so  poisons  your  clay. 


TEMPERANCE  JUBILEE. 


Lo,  the  Temperance  Jublilee  comes  ! 

Bright  is  the  banner  she  over  us  flings: 
Slaves  of  Bacchus  in  desolate  homes. 

Freely  may  share  in  the  pleasure  she  brings. 
See — how  she's  laden  !  her  basket  is  teeming 

With  comfort  and  health  to  the  needy  and  wan, 
Sweetly  her  eyes  with  divinity  beaming, 

And  darkness  and  sorrow  before  her  are  gone. 
Hail  Thou,  Temperance,  goddess  of  peace, 

Hallowed  genius  that  scatters  our  fears! — 
Brings  the  desolate  kindly  release, 

Chasing  their  sorrows  and  wiping  their  tears ! 
Hail  to  thy  conquests  with  loud  acclamation, 

That  vanquishes  IJacdius  and  frees  the  forlorn, 
The  cause  that  of  thousands  has  been  the  salvation, 

The  solace  of  millions,  let  triumph  adorn! 


26  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


MY  WIFE. 


My  Wife,  dear  partner  of  my  youth, 

Companion  of  my  age, 
True  type  of  virtue,  love  and  truth, 

My  comforter  and  sage: 
Her  smile  tike  sunbeam  to  unfold 

My  bloom  of  head  and  heart, 
Shall  valued  be  of  price  untold, 

Till  life  in  death  depart. 

I  love  her  for  her  loveliness 

Of  feature,  spirit,  mind, 
Full  elements,  without  excess, 

Of  essence  most  refined. 
Her  gentle  hands,  though  never  made 

To  guide  the  sturdy  plow, 
Are  oft  in  sweet  affection  laid 

To  frooth  my  anxious  brow. 

Let  others  the  wild  mazes  roam 

To  sate  their  lawless  love, 
But  let  me  aye  abide  at  h<>me 

With  mv  own  charming  dove. 
Would  t  exchange  her  pure  embrace 

For  all  the  wanton  train? — 
O'erpall  with  grief  that  angel  face, 

And  pierce  that  heart  with  pain  ! 

I  ask  no  monarch's  crown  to  lay 

Its  weight  upon  my  head: 
Let  me  the  unambitious  way 

Of  upright  manhood  tread. 


THE  FASHIONABLES.  27 


While  Heaven  warrants  to  extend 

My  residue  of  life, 
Grant  me  this  true  and  bosom  friend, 

My  dear  confiding  wife.  1348. 


THE  FASHIONABLES. 


How  Fashion,  vain,  capricious  jade, 

Gee-haws  her  silly  victims  round! 
In  Folly's  flaunting  garb  arrayed, 

They  list  her  every  plausfve  sound. — 
Content  to  pi  <y  doll-baby  p;irt. 

These  semblances  of  human  kind, 
Deform  their  bodies  by  their  art. 

And  starve  th'  invaluable  mind. 

Better  design  of  dough  or  dirt, 

An  image  of  the  human  form. 
And  dress  it  as  they  would  a  flirt. — 

No  matter  whether  cool  or  warm — 
Deck  it  with  tawdry,  gems  and  curls, 

\ndjniiiif  the  blushes  on  its  face, — 
(Fair  sample  of  our  modish  girls, 

Fantouis  for  simpletons  to  chase!) 

But  let  the  human  form  divine 

Retain  its  native  beauty  still; 
Thwart  not  its  Maker's  wise  design, 

Mar  not  its  Maker's  wondrous  skill! 
That /o/-;»  if  prized  like  other  things, 

And  va'u-'d  for  the  u-orth  it  xhrincs, 
'Tis  casket  keeping  richer  nem 

Than  ever  lit  Golconda'a  mines. 


28  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


EQUALITY. 


God  never  made  an  Autocrat, 
In  all  His  broad  creation, — 

A  monster  bandit  whose  fiat 
Should  rule  a  man  or  nation. 

God  never  made  a  chattel  slave; 

Such  pitiless  infliction 
Would  mar  the  plan  His  wisdom  gave, 

With  glaring  contradiction. 

But  made  mankind  for  liberty, 
And  bade  them  live  as  brothers; 

Gave  each  his  own  in  equity. 
One  reckoned  with  anothers. 

In  this  let  each  their  homage  pay 
To  Him  their  own  Creator, 

And  thus  of  Love  and  Truth  each  day 
Be  rich  participator^ 

Let  none  despise  a  wholesome  toil : 
It  makes  the  poor  man  wealthy; 

To  dig  subsistence  from  the  soil 
MakeS  feeble  mortals  healthy. 

Whatever  I  myself  can  do 

I  will  not  ask  of  others; 
To  "live  and  let  live,"  help  live!  too, 

Becomes  all  human  brothers. 

When  pitted  in  the  cause  of  right, 
And  none  to  staud  beside  me, 


ETHICS  OF  TRADE. 


I  will  contend  with  main  and  might, 

Though  justice  be  denjed  me.  1345. 


ETHICS  OF  TRADE. 


A  fig  for  him  whose  silly  heart 

Confides  in  wily  proft'erings, — 
A  victim  sheer  of  sharpers'  smart, 

Their  wiles  and  crafty  offerings; 
For  honesty  in  intercourse 

Was  long  ago  forgotten  ; 
The  moral  sense  has  lost  its  force, 

The  SQcial  heart  is  rotten. 

Saddlebags,  now  "warrants  health," 

To  get  his  bread  well  buttered ; 
Er\f't\  his  pockets  stuffs  with  wealth, 

For  honied  phrases  uttered; 
Shears,  declares  the  neatest  fits; 

Yardstick,  pledges  cheapest; 
Jnt/<ll<-r,  prospers  by  his  wits, 

Skilled  in  tricks  the  deepest. 

Thus  chicanery  and  fraud, 

Lying,  cheating,  scheming, 
Spread  their  network  all  abroad, 

To  snare  the  unschooled  or  dreaming; 
To  lure  the  simple  in  their  toils, 

And  filch  their  health  and  earnings; 
And  make  of  innocence  their  spoils, 

Reckless  of  dear  heart-yearnings.  1345. 


30  THE  S  UNFL  0  WER. 


SOLILOQUY. 

Just  give  me  skill  my  ends  to  plan, 

And  nerve  and  muscle  equal, 
I'll  be  an  independent  man, 

Uncaring  for  the  sequel j 
I  would  not  ask  of  human  kind 

A  favor  or  a  blessing, 
But  gain  for  body  and  for  mind 

All  that  is  worth  pussessmg. 

And  when  I  sail  Avernus  o'er 

I'll  take  my  own  conveyance, — 
I'll  seize  Old  Charon's  helm  and  oar, 

My  motto,  '-No  delayance!" 
Let  dash  Avernus'  breakers  high, 

And  tempests  shake  my  coffin, 
And  wild  tornadoes  wreck  the  sky — 

Fit  scene  my  clay  to  doff  in !  1845 


OBEDIENCE. 

[ — 3 

Nature  of  blessings  vouches  bounteous  share, — 

Nature  begotten  of  some  Great  First  Cause  j — 
The  ''Curse  of  Providence"  is  but  to  bear 

The  fatal  sequence  of  infracted  laws. 
Sorrow  and  pain  are  fruits  from  off  that  tree 

Which  ne'er  was  planted  by  obeying  hands, — 
Grown  by  permission,  urging  leave  to  be, 

Apostate  harvest  of  perverted  land*. 


THE  FOBS  A  A'A'.V  ',s'  L.  1 MENT.  31 


THE  FORSAKEN'S  LA.MENT, 

A    DREAM. 


A  musing  through  a  shady  grove, 

By  purling  stream, 
I  laid  me  'neath  a  shady  bower, 

To  sleep — to  dream. 
Sweet  blossoms  drowsy  shed  perfumes 

O'er  heart  and  head, 
And  softly  through  the  quivering  leaves, 

The  sunbeams  played. 
The  merry  birds  that  thronged  the  air 

Around,  above, 
Their  chimes  so  sweetly  struck  my  ear, 

1  dreamed  of  luve  : 
Anon  I  heard  a  plaintive  moan 

Of  person  nigh, 
I  looked,  and  lo!  a  damsel  fair 

Appeared  close  by. 
Around  her  chastened  charming  face 

Played  auburn  tresses, 
While  light  and  blush  and  mystic  grace, 

That  aye  impresses, 
Beamed  out  o'er  cheek  and  eye  and  lip, 

So  redolent; 
'Twas  truth  and  love  and  innocence 

In  beauty  blent. 

With  a  form  that  a  fairy  would  prize," 
And  accents  out-vyintr  the  birds, 

And  dashing  the  tears  from  her  eyes, 
She  uttered  her  anguish  in  words. 


32  THE  SUNFL  0  WEE. 


And  who  could  forget  those  sweet  tones, 
So  chastened  in  sadness  and  wrong, 

When,  weary  of  weeping  and  moans, 
She  uttered  her  sorrow  in  song: 

"Ye  birds  that  flit  from  spray  to  spray, 
And  gaily  chant  your  twittering  theme; 

Ye  squirrels  chattering  in  the  trees, 
Ye  minnows  sporting  in  the  stream; 

"Ye  grouse  that  hie  on  fleetest  wing, 
And  ducks  that  plod  along  the  fen; 

Ye  herons  poised  in  ether  high, 

Far  o'er  the  haunts  of  faithless  men; 

"Ye  lambs  that  frolic  on  the  green; 

Ye  conies  skulking  on  the  lea; 
Ye  dappled,  timid,  forest  fawns, 

Cast  one  kind  look  on  hapless  rne? 

"Ye  sullen  clouds  that  heedlet-s  fly,  • 

Regard  tne  as  ye  pass  along! 
Ye  whirling  winds  that  rend  the  sky, 

Be  still  and  hear  niy  tale  of  wrong ! 

"Through  childhood  I  sported 

In  freedom  like  you; 
Regaled  on  life's  nectars, 

And  laved  in  its  dew, 
Till  sought  by  the  charmer 

Who  won  my  esteem, 
Then  quickly  evanished 

The  sweet  of  my  dream. 

"I  lived  in  the  cottage 
By  yonder  wood-side; 


Fond  sire  and  mother 
All  wishes  supplied: 

No  brother  or  sister 
'  A  truant  would  roam, 

For  love  and  contentment 
Pervaded  that  home. 

"Anon,  o'er  the  prairie 

A  neighboring  swain, 
To  taste  of  that  Eden 

Came  again  and  again  ; 
With  eyes  softly  beaming 

And  tenderest  tone, 
He  wooed  me  and  promised 

To  make  me  his  own. 

"In  tones  of  such  sweetness 

He  called  me  his  l<ive, 
How  could  I  refuse  him 

To  mate  with  the  dove? — 
Alas !  the  sad  lesson 

I  learn  it  too  late, 
For  the  dove  that  I  cherished 

Has  flown  from  its  mate. 

"I  loved  him  sincerely, 

I  thought  he  loved  me; 
I  prized  him  most  dearly, 

And  thought  he  prized  me. 
With  gushing  affection 

My  holy  love  burned, 
And  in  his  caresses 

I  thought  it  returned. 

"I'd  nothing  to  give  him 
Of  trappings  or  pelf, 


34  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


But  the  treasure  far  richer 

My  innocent  self; 
As  pure  as  the  dew  drop 

This  bosom  of  mine, 
What  more  could  he  covet 

His  heart  to  inshrine? 

"How  could  he  thus  leave  me 

In  anguish  to  pine — 
How  could  he  so  trifle 

With  such  love  as  mine! 
Why  am  I  forsaken? 

0,  what  have  I  done 
That  I  am  deserted 

By  that  faithless  one? 

"Let  prairies  don  perpetual  gloom, 

And  fields  their  golden  harvests  flee; 
Let  Spring  depart  no  more  to  bloom, 

Since  my  false  swain's  deserted  me. 
And  let  me  fly"  beyond  these  scenes 

To  climes  where  suffering  spirits  rest, 
To  realms  where  unrequited  love 

Shall  never  more  disturb  the  breast." 


FAITH— HOPE— LOVE. 

But  for  the  Faith  that  points  a  better  goal, 
And  Hope  that  promises  fruition  there, 

And  Love  that  sweetens  earth's  embittered  bowl 
With  nectar  grateful  to  the  longing  soul, 

Man  better  were  the  senseless  clam  or  bear. 


THE  GRAVES.  35 


THE  GRATES. 


The  spade  gives  the  dead  both  a  bed  and  a  cover 
And  levels  distinctions  in  plebeian  earth, 

There  round  the  dark  cavern  do  weeping  friends  hover, 
And  hush  in  deep  silence  all  accents  of  mirth. 

In  the  grave  there  the  brave  and  the  timid  lie  sleeping, 
The  high  and  the  low  in  the  same  kindred  dust,  ^ 

While  reptiles  so  loathsome  are  carnivals  keeping 
O'er  all  that  remains  of  ambition  or  lust. 

In  the  gloom  of  the  tomb  lies  the  wretch  from  his  hovel, 
At  his  side  from  his  pride  lies  the  king  from  his 
throne, 

The  wretch  none  abashed  by  position  so  novel, 
The  king  well  content  that  his  size  is  his  own. 

Will  the  grave  of  the  slave  be  a  whit  the  less  quiet,  ' 
Because  his  late  owner  lies  close  at  his  side? 

His  carcass  no  better  delectable  diet 

For  worms:  but  what  of  his  splendor  and  pride?  ^ 

There's  a  grave  'neath  the  wave'where  the  millions  lie 

hidden, 

Who  roamed  o'er  the  oceans  their  fortunes  to  tell, 
By  war  and  tornado  and  pestilence  bidden, 

And  are  rocked  in  their  slumbers  by  proud  ocean's 
swell. 


36  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


THE  OX. 


The  ox,  the  patient  ox,  is  doomed  to  toil, 

To  wear  through  heat  and  cold  and  drouth  and  rain, 

The  heavy  yoke,  to  draw  the  rooting  plow, 

And  lead  the  neap  that  weighs  the  teeming  loads 

Of  fresh  produce  from  hill  and  dale  and  mead, 

Home  to  the  thrifty  farmer's  barn  and  crib, 

A  rich  reward  of  toiling  man  and  beast. 

How  fares  he  then? 

The  blasts  of  Winter  chill,  and  burning  Sol 
Darts  on  him  scorching  beams,  vile  tongues  blaspheme, 
And  cruel  hands  deal  blows  unmerciful: 

He  bears  them  all 
For  scanty  pittance  of  his  da  Hi/  food. 


HAPPY  FIRE  SIDE. 


Round  the  pleasant  "Ingle"  side 
All  endearments  center, 

Realm  that  nothing  may  divide, 

Nothing  rude  miy  enter: 
Likeness  of  Hie  home  above, 

Every  heart  will  shrine  it, 
Truth  and  purity  and  love 

Clustering  will  twine  it. 


A  LAMENT. 


O'er  each  feature,  sense  and  form, 

Life  its  'chantuients  throwing, 
Love  through  every  bosom  warm 

In  sweet  currents  glowing. 
No  unkindly  p;issions  spring 

Scenes  like  these  to  sadden; 
Words  will  only  pleasure  bring, 

Smiles  will  cheer  and  gladden. 


A  LAMENT. 


The  polar  winds  of  bleak  November  blew, 

Dismantled  trees  their  naked  summits  shook, 
O'er  fields  the  snow  in  whirling  eddies  flew, 

And  icy  floors  bridged  the  running  brook; 
I  monning  lay  upon  my  couch  of  pain, 

Despondent,  musing  on  the  wastrd  past, 
Keen  fancy's  specters  flitting  through  the  brain; 

Their  gloomy  shadows  o'er  my  spirit  cast. 

The  golden  moments  of  impressive  youth 

In  folly  wasted, — the  illuring  cheat 
Had  gu'phed  the  soul, — Religion,  Reason,  Truth, 

All  strewn  in  ruin  at  her  dazzling  feet. 
(Thus  sport  the  young  in  dissipation's  way, 

In  wild  tornadoes  of  their  youthful  fire; 
Thus  pleasure  frenzied,  passion  bears  the  sway, 

And  each  indulgence  heaves  the  tempest  higher.) 

Dejected  wretch  !  nor  hope  the  spirit  finds — 
Death-robbed  forever  of  those  hopeful  ones 


38  THE  S  UNFL  0  WER. 


Whose  stately  forms  and  whose  unfolding  minds 
Could  cheer  the  parents'  lonely  setting  suns. 

The  future — what? — 'tis  but  unsightly  dream, 
A  vague  conjecture  of  an  unknown  wild! — 

Ye  Powers  above,  vouchsafe  one  glinting  beam 
To  light  the  evening  of  thy  luckless  child? 

Oh  horrid  thought!  and  who  could  but  repine, 

Thus  cruel  flung  on  Fate's  remorseless  wave — 
\ictiui  devote  of  premature  decline, 

And  soon  to  die  and  strangers  turf  his  grave? 
Forbid  it.  Heaven ! — but  hopeless  the  refrain, 

Since  life  is  ebbing  to  its  last  degree; 
Disease  is  wasting,  soon  its  grief  and  pain 

Will  close  the  mission  of  the  dire  decree. 

And  neighbors  kind  with  melancholy  pace, 

And  drooping  head,  will  near  the  gloomy  spot, 
Consign  me  to  the  quiet  resting  place, 

To  sleep  unwaking  and  my  memory  rot. 
Depart  my  kin !  let  Gorgons  dress  my  tomb, 

And  on  its  face  "Annihilation"  write; 
Let  thought  be  hushed  in  everlasting  gloom, 

As  life  is  smothered  in  eternal  nijjht. 


SPRING  MORNING. 


Day  is  springing — 
Birds  are  singing, 
Music  flinging 
O'er  the  lea; 


SPRING  MORNING.  39 


Rills  are  flowing, 
Herds  are  lowing, 
Cocks  are  crowing 
Forth  their  glee. 

Budding  bowers, 
Bursting  flowers — 
Genial  showers 

Lave  the  green; 
Earth  confessing 
Sol's  caressing, 
New  is  dressing 

Like  a  Queen. 

Flowers  long  slumbered 
Wake  unnumbered 
Bee  and  huuibird 

To  invite ; 
On  their  pistils, 
Pearly  crystals 
Sport  like  vestals 

Kobed  in  light. 

Frogs  are  peeping, 
Reptiles  creeping, 
From  their  sleeping 

Insects  rise; 
All  before  us, 
'Neath  and  o'er  us, 
Join  in  chorus 

To  the  skies. 


40  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


FREEDOM'S  STAR. 


Though  proud  Columbia  wide  maintains 
Her  ''Stars  and  Stripes"  o'er  seas  and  plains, 
Not  half  the  luster  now  pertains, 

That  graced  them  when  they  first  arose  ! 
When  Freedom  first  upon  her  gleamed, 
And  Independence  smiling  beamed, 
Her  soaring  Eagle  dauntless  screamed 

Defiance  on  her  tyrant  foes. 

But  now  the  wail  of  Slavery  rings; 

A  cancer  at  her  vitals  stings — 

A  blight  and  mildew  o'er  her  flings, 

And  mourning  drapes  her  ensign  brave. 
Alas,  for  her  degenerate  sons! 
Their  sires  ne'er  blanched  for  tyrant's  guns, 
But  they  in  dread  of  proud  Southrons, 

Dare  scarcely  whisper  for  the  Slave! 

So  long  has  man  a  Slave  been  trod! 
As  long  have  Masters  swayed  the  rod ! 
Insulting  thus  their  Maker,  God, 

And  bathed  humanity  in  tears. 
This  sordid  nation  yet  shall  wake, 
Shall  all  its  Slavery  fetters  break, 
And  for  its  wrongs  atonement  make 

And  cheer  the  Slaves'  declining  years. 

Columbia  then  may  rule  afar, 

And  millions  hail  her  morning  star, 

Re-echo  round  the  long  huzza: 

"Of  none  destroying,  none  oppressed  !" 


BICKERINGS.  41 


Her  ''Stars  and  Stripes"  then  bright  will  shine, 
Lit  with  a  halo  mo-t  divine  ; 
United  all  her  sons  combine 

In  Freedom's  bonds  supremely  blest.  1844. 


A  CHAPTER  ON  BICKERINGS. 

TO    WHOM    IT    CONCERNS. 


Don't  harry  your  neighbor,  Dick  Grum! 

He's  not  made  for  a  tabor, 

Nor  to  stick  with  a  saber; 

Besides  for  your  labor 
'T  wont  pay,  Dick  Grum. 

These  neighborhood  quirrels,  Dick  Grum, 

Don't  spring  of  good  morals; 

Have  butter  from  corals, 

Or  sug;ir  from  sorrels 
As  soon,  Dick  Grum. 

Don't  tease  Mamma  Deaver,  Dick  Grum, — 

Alone  I  pray  leave  her ! 

If  she  is  a  deceiver 

You'll  not  gain  by  your  fever 
Against  her,  Dick  Grum. 

'Tis  an  unequal  battle,  Dick  Grum, — 

For  a  boy  with  a  rattle 

Can  blatter  and  prattle 

And  gossip  and  tattle 
'Bout  woman,  Dick  Grum. 


42  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Away  with  your  slander,  Dick  Grum, — 

A  gabbling  old  gander 

Appears  a  "heap"  grander 

Than  you  as  you  pander 
To  your  spleen,  Dick  Grum. 

Be  admonished  in  season,  Dick  Grum, — 

'Tis  wasting  your  weasand — 

'Tis  social  high  treason; 

Religion  and  reason 
Forbid  it,  Dick  Grum. 

Incessant  fault-finding,  Dick  Grum, 

A*nd  worming  and  winding 

And  grabbing  and  grinding, 

(Ones  better  part  blinding), 
Is  ruin,  Dick  Grum. 

Be  something  or  nothing,  Dick  Grum, — 

On  self  does  your  lothing, 

Your  vaporing,  wrothing, 

Your  fretting  and  fruthing 
Recoil,  Dick  Grum.  1850 


VARIETIES. 


As  differ  men  in  stature,  forms  and  faces, 

So  they,  in  minds  and  morals,  tastes  and  graces, 

Show  parents,  nations,  species,  stocks  and  races. 


THE  DANDY. 


THE  DANDY. 


The  Dandy — pshaw!  the  funky  iness — 

Conceited,  powdered  noodle, 
With  naught  of  value  but  his  dress, — 

A  noddy,  a  fopdoodle. 

This  rara  avis  strutting  goes 
On  end  like  human  creatures; 

That  vacant  shell  behind  the  nose 
Is  shaped  like  human  features. 

[Tis  bootless  task  to  hunt  for  soul, 

No  matter  what  our  craving, 
Nought  con  we  do  but  save  the  hole, 

And  that's  not  worth  the  saving.] 

His  locks  done  up  with  curling  rods, 
His  bosom  gemmed  with  broaches, 

Whate'er  of  him  would  please  the  gods 
Is  shamed  by  the  cockroaches. 

Trinkets  adorn  his  paws  and  ears 

In  fashion  most  exquisite; 
''Poll"*  sees! — abashed  and  most  in  tears, 

At  first  cried  out:  '-What  is  it?" — 

Then,  "Hell  of  cheat!  carcass  and  curls 

And  every  merit  counted. 
Fit  walking-stick  for  silly  girls, 

Brass-headed  and  gold — mounted!" 

*  Parrot. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Sooner  than  that  waste  thing,  a  fop, 

I'd  be  a  clam  or  donkey, 
Or  hooting  owl  on  yon  tree  top, 

Or  weathercock  or  monkey. 


THE  KINDLY. 


Every  kindly  act  we  do 
Memory  loves  to  treasure, 

Prompting  to  the  good  and  true — 
Lights  our  way  to  pleasure. 

Every  kind  impulse  of  soul 
Towards  a  human  creature, 

Adds  a  drop  to  bliss'  bowl, 
Marks  angelic  feature. 

Every  pure  and  gentle  thought, 

Every  hallowed  feeling. 
Mingles  nectar  with  each  draught, 

Fount  of  heaven  revealing. 

Sweet  response  of  heart  to  heart 
Swells  beyond  expressing; 

Who'd  not  happiness  impart 
Thus  repaid  with  blessing? 


DEDICATION  OF  ALBUM.  45 


DEDICATION  OF  ALBUM, 
For  my  dear  Niece,   Mary  E.  Steward. 

The  little  bee  departs  his  cell 

As  morning  shadows  vanish, 
To  sip  the  honey  dews  that  fell, 

His  storehouse  to  replenish. 
The  humbird  hies  from  her  modest  tree 

Where  swings  her  downy  palace, 
Kissing  the  blooms  along  the  lea, 

Tasting  each  nectar  chalice. 

So  speed  this  book  through  mental  bowers, 

And  social  landscapes  tripping, 
Free  as  the  bird  that  kisses  the  flowers, 

Or  bee  that  the  nectar  is  sipping. 
These  virgin  leaves  without  a  stain 

To  Virtue  and  Truth  are  given, 
And  never  be  their  silver  chain 

By  fraud  or  flattery  riven ! 

Let  Purity  glow  on  every  page, 

And  Innocence  play  in  each  line; 
Blend  fancy  of  youth  with  firmness  of  age, 

In  feeling  and  thought  divine. 
Here  compliments  may  be  expressed, 

And  gratulttions  offered; 
Even  sweet  affinities  confessed, 

And  gentle  praises  proffered. 

Friendships  may  here  ambrosials  bring 

Fresh  from  the  Spirit  gale; 
Affection  twine  her  offering, 

And  love  breathe  the  tender  tale. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


The  wealth  of  regal  diadems 

On  brow  of  Empress  twined, 
Is  nought  compared  with  these  richer  gems 

Culled  from  the  garden  of  mind. 

Here  genius  and  skill  may  paint  a  book; 

Here  wisdom  or  wit  may  speak, 
But  never  indulge  in  word  or  look 

That  would  tinge  the  young  maid's  cheek! 
For  these,  all  these  is  this  Album  sent 

To  greet  each  generous  donor, 
To  richer  return,  but  pure  as  it  went, 

To  Mary  its  thankful  owner.  April,  1850. 


PRAIRIE  GIRL. 


A  maiden  rose  from  her  rural  bed, 

In  early  morn  in  May, 
And  o'er  the  fragrant  prairie  sped 

To  gather  a  fresh  buquet. 

With  airy  gait  and  fleet  as  the  fawn, 
She  flings  to  the  breeze  her  tresses, 

Repainting  her  cheeks  with  the  glow  of  dawn, 
The  art  that  cupid  confesses. 

Tasty  as  nature  her  form  is  dressed, 

Sincerity  speaks  in  her  face; 
Every  line  is  beauty  expressed, 

And  every  action,  grace; 


FOLLY  AND  FUN.  47 


Soul  unsullied  with  moral  stain, 
And  spirit  as  light  as  the  bee, 

Her  critic  vision  scans  the  plain 
For  flowers  as  sweet  as  she. 

Her  dextrous  fingers  snap  the  stems, 
Supporting  the  blossoms  rare, 

And  on  her  fair  bosom  lays  the  gems 
To  lavish  their  fragrance  there. 


FOLLY  AND  FUN. 


Folly  vain  and  antic 

Humbling  through  the  mazes, 
O  er  the  hills  and  meadows, 

Snatching  oft'  the  daises. — 
Fun  is  growing  frantic, 

As  excitement  crazes, 
In  the  lights  and  shadows 

Of  jack-o-lautern  blazes; 

Hieing  after  pleasure — 

Dancing  onward  ever, 
While  the  coquette  treasure 

Mocks  the  vain  endeavor, 
Till  the  murky  river 

Swallows  him  from  sight, 
And  they  sink  forever, 

In  forgotten  ni^ht. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


ELEGY    ON    THE    DEATH    OF 

CHARLES   MADISON   CARVER, 

Who  died  (as  was  reported  by  his  friend,  "William  Plumas,  who 
buried  him  "beneath  the  shade  of  a  pine  tree,")  on  the  bank  of 
the  Middle  Yuba  River,  California,  July  28th,  1850.  His  age, 
twenty-five  years  arid  one  month. 


On  the  bleak  western  mount  where  the  dark  Yuba  flows, 
And  the  Savage  wild  empire  is  keeping, 

Beneath  a  lone  pine  in  their  lasting  repose, 
The  remains  of  a  loved  one  are  sleeping. 

He  left  his  "sweet  home"  'mid  remonstrance  and  tears, 

(His  "adieu"  was  a  farewell  forever), 
To  meet  in  the  sequel  his  friends'  darkest  fears, 

To  return  again  never — no  never ! 

But  to  lie  down  and  die  on  the  "gold-digger's"  claim, 
Nor  a  "way  side  acquaint"  even  near  him; 

No  love  of  a  brother  to  whisper  his  nam£, 
Nor  sister's  affection  to  cheer  him : 

The  forest  his  shelter,  the  cold  earth  his  bed, 

A  stone  lying  there  was  his  pillow; 
But  who  will  inhume  when  the  spirit  is  fled? — 

Who  plant  o'er  his  resting  the  willow? 

Poor  boy! — 'tis  sad  on  his  exit  to  think — 
The  pangs  as  each  life-drop  is  wasting — 

Prostrated  and  helpless  and  poised  on  the  brink, 
And  life  to  its  terminus  hasting: ! 


DEATH  OF  C.  M.  CARVER.  49 


Oh — could  his  dim  eye  ere  it  darkens  in  death, 
Catch  one  glimpse  of  a  sister  or  brother! — 

Or  could  he  be  suffered  his  vanishing  breath 
To  breathe  in  the  "sweet  ear  of  mother!" 

0,  how  't  would  console  him!   his  laboring  heart 
Would  laugh  in  the  midst  of  its  anguish; 

'T  would  ease  to  his  suffering  senses  impart, 
And  e'en  reconcile  him  to  languish. 

Bat  these  are  forbid  him,  and  Charlie,  unblest, 

Alone  on  a  "placer"  reclining, 
There  sighs  to  the  darkness  and  sinks  to  his  rest, 

And  worms  gather  in  for  their  dining. 

EPISODE. 

To  die  in  "sweet  home,"  on  a  love-circled  bed, 

A  fond  sister's  hand  to  caress  him; 
A  dear  mother's  bosom  to  pillow  his  head, 

And  sweet  tones  to  comfort  and  bless  him ; 

Her  angelic  ear  to  record  his  last  breath, 

Breathed  out  like  the  zephyr's  soft  sighing — 

Is  this  the  dark  moment  they're  wont  to  call  death? 
No — surely,  this  can  not  be  dying! — 

And  friendship  to  heap  him  a  neat  rural  grave, 

And  lay  the  green  turf  for  a  cover, 
Where  ivy  will  twine  and  the  amaranth  wave, 

And  angelic  spirits  o'er  hover. 

No :  call  it  not  death — it  never  can  be, 
But  a  transit  from  sighing  and  sorrow: 

The  spirit  escapes  from  its  prison  house  free, 
And  wakes  to  a  happier  morrow. 


50  TUB  SUNFLOWER. 


But  to  lie  down  and  die  on  a  gold-digger's  claim, 
Far  away  on  the  cold  rugged  mountain, 

Too  sick  to  return  by  the  pathway  he  came, 
Or  crawl  to  the  thirst-cooling  fountain: 

No  music  to  hear  but  the  vulture  and  crow 

And  buzzard  in  villainous  clauior, 
As  hovering  o'er  him  expiring  below, 

They  jabber  their  horrible  grammar. 

Yes — to  die  like  the  wolf,  the  cold  earth  for  his  lair, 
And  famishing  kites  flapping  o'er  him; 

The  zephyr  that  fans  him  the  breath  of  the  bear 
That  eagerly  waits  to  devour  him! — 

But  enough — 0,  mercy  !  beneath  a  dark  screen — 
The  heart-shocking  tragedy — seal  it! — 

O,  Lethe!  embrace  the  soul-sickening  scene, 
And  never — no,  never — reveal  it! 


The  breeze  of  the  valley  that  moans  through  the  pine, 

Seems  sad  with  the  tale  of  his  dying. 
And  plaintive  implores  of  the  IMercy  Divine 

A  respite  from  sorrow  and  sighing. 

The  wild  horse  and  bison  and  moose  of  the  plain, 

In  silence  move  off  to  their  haven; 
The  tribes  wont  to  feast  on  the  blood  of  the  slain, 

Forget  for  a  season  to  raven. 

The  yell  of  the  panther,  the  growl  of  the  bear, 
Are  hushed  .when  they  chance  to  approach  him: 

The  invisible  powers  have  made  him  their  care, 
And  harm  is  forbidden  to  touch  him. 


DEATH  OF  C.  M.  CARVER.  51 


Ye  fallows  that  graze  by  the  meadow-girt  lake 

And  drink  of  its  mirroring  bosom; 
Ye  pheasants  that  brood  'neath  the  sheltering  brake 

Where  the  plum  and  the  wild  apple  blossom. 

Ye  squirrels  and  conies  that  chatter  and  toy 
'Along  herbage  and  trees,  haste  before  her, 

The  mother — the  mother  bereft  of  her  boy, 
And  unite  ye  in  moans  to  deplore  her! 

The  eagle  that  towers  in  Sol's  vivid  light, 
Beyond  where  the  rude  tempests  gather, 

Or  sits  like  the  genius  of  storm  on  the  height, 
Nor  heeds  the  tornadoes  beneath  her, — 

Yes:  she  that  can  laugh  at  the  sky- wrecking  storm, 
Now  cowers  her  proud  pinions  before  him, 

And  screams  out  the  wail  of  that  desolate  form, 
The  mother — the  mother  that  bore  him. 

Ye  robins  and  thrushes  a  carol  here  sing — 
And  the  pine  where  our  hero  reposes, 

Ye  seasons  endow  it  perpetual  Spring 
And  twine  it  with  supernal  roses. 

Now  fare  thee  well,  Charlie,  adieu,  hapless  child! 

Thou  wast  torn  from  the  bosoms  that  bless  thee! 
Let  sylvans  around  thee  chant  wood-notes  wild, 

And  sylphs  in  their  sweetest  caress  thee. 

Yes:  fare  thee  well,  brother,  a  lasting  farewell! 

Mountain  winds  their  sad  requiem  sing  theej 
Each  leaf  of  the  pine  ever  whispers  thy  knell, 

And  elves  their  devotion  aye  bring  thee. 

There  calm  be  thy  slumber  unruffled  by  dream 
Or  the  "grisly"  that  near  by  is  growling; 


52  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Unmindful  alike  of  the  eagle's  wild  scream, 
_0r  the  ravening  wolf's  angry  howling. 

Intense  is  thy  quiet  and  peaceful  thy  bed, 
Unheeding  the  earth  rocking  thunder; 

The  lightning  may  shiver  the  "pine"  at  thy  head, 
But  nought  will  awake  thee  from  under! 

Thy  struggle  and  turmoil  so  early  are  done, 
Both  venture  and  '-gold  fever"  ended, 

But  thy  shade  a  hereafter  far  better  has  won, 
By  clime  and  kin  spirits  befriended. 


YOUTH. 

Merry  as  the  fairy  elf 

With  her  shadow  playing, 
Thoughtless  of  its  coming  self, 

Youth  is  careless  straying; 
Changeful  as  the  fitful  vane, 
Wayward  runs  the  giddy  train 

Through  the  dreamy  mazes; 
Glimpses  of  a  better  day 
Flung  to  light  the  better  way, 

Are  lost  in  passion's  hazes. 


THE  NEGLECTED   BOY. 

Child  of  ignorant  and  thoughtless  parents,  abandoned  to  the 
society  of  vulgar,  vicious  associates,  often  much  older  than 
he — being  an  apt  scholar,  soon  becomes  schooled  in  all  the 
vices  of  Billingsgate,  and  grows  an  expert  teacher  in  the  perpi  (• 
ual  school  in  which  himself  graduated.  Thus  vices  and  crimes 
are  multiplied  indefinitely. 


COUNTRY  VS.   CITY. 


See  him  run  his  wanton  race, 

Careless,  crazed  and  tearless; 
Wild  in  folly's  giddy  chase, 

Lost  in  mazes  cheerless. 
Smothered  conscience  scarcely  warns, — 

Heckles-)  of  the  morrow. 
Plants  his  future  path  with  thorns, 

Spreads  his  bed  with  sorrow; 
Grows  to  manhood  in  disgrace — 

Mercy  bleeds  to  tell  it! — 
Blots  God's  image  from  his  face, 

And  for  nought  would  sell  it! 
How  can  reason  him  control — 

Sentiments  all  blighted, 
Fires  of  Etna  flame  his  soul, 

Love  in  lust  benighted? 
He  strolls  a  blot  upon  the  earth, 

Filthy  tatters  clothe  him. 
Lives  for  ribaldry  and  mirth, 

All  things  decent  loathe  him. 


COUNTRY  vs.  CITY; 
NATURE  vs.  ART. 


A  buxom  damsel  in  her  teens, 
Weary  of  rustic  country  seems, 
To  city  hied  to  shed  her  greens 

And  don  the  graces; 
Alack — to  her  refinement  means, 

Airs  and  grimaces ! 


54  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


With  gentle  folk  to  walk  and  speak, 
She  barters  off  the  blooming  cheek, 
The  winsome  mien  and  manners  meek, — 

These  charms  of  woman — 
And  calls  them  now  too  vulgar,  weak, 

Too  rude  and  common. 

Now  mark  her  on  the  city  street, 
With  her  companions  there  you  meet, 
See  you  divine  Diana's  gait 

And  fair  proportions? 
No:  but  deformity  complete — 

Their  gait,  distortions. 

Got  up  by  modish  forms  and  hws, — 
Great  dolls  hung  over  with  gewgaws, 
As  beads  and  wampum  deck  the  squaws, 

And  vain  as  monkeys; 
As  vacant-minded  as  the  daws 

Are  fashion's  flunkies. 

She  loiters  on  the  promenade, 

Or  lolls  beneath  some  myrtle  shade, 

Stealing  the  heart  of  some  young  blade 

As  green  's  her  shade  is. — 
These  grotesque  things  and  thus  displayed, 

Are  yclept,  '-ladies." 

Or  'mid  the  throng  where  cat-gut  squeals 
Its  dissipating  peals  on  peals. 
She  whirls  about  on  antic  heels, 

By  midnight  tapers. 
And  cuts  in  polkas,  waltzes,  reels, 

Her  antic  capers. 

Thus  flutters  round  the  city  scrawn, 
Stuffed  effigy  of  silk  and  lawn, 


TO  A  BROTHER  RHYMER.  55 


How  life  was  smothered  in  its  dawn 

Is  melancholy! 
The  native  beauties  with  her  born 

Were  lost  in  fully. 

Compare  the  lassie  country  bred — 

Her  easy,  firm,  poetic  tread, 

Her  feeling  heart  and  thinking  head, 

And  finest  ken, 
All  worthy  to  be  wooed  and  wed 

To  best  of  men. 

Give  body,  brain  in  balance  just, 
Untaint  with  falsehood,  envy,  lust, 
Replete  with  constancy  and  trust 

And  virtues  steady, 
And  begging  goes  your  gilded  crust, 

Your  stuif-built  lady. 

0.  give,  Ye  Powers!  Great  Nature's  forms 
Which  Life's  impassioned  current  warms, 
A  casket  of  unfading  charms, 

I'll  bless  the  Giver, 
And  clasp  the  treasure  in  my  arms, 

And  love  forever.  1850. 


TO  A  BROTHER  RHYMER,— O.  FULLER. 


My  Friend,  my  much  respected  Otis 
Let  me  intrude  upon  your  notice 
A  word — a  verse  or  two  of  Rhyme, 
To  while  away  an  idle  time — 


56  TUB  SUNFLOWER. 


About  ourselves  and  matters  here; 

I'll  serve  them  up  as  they  appear — 

That  is,  to  me:  perchance  I'm  swayed, 

You  know  each  fancies  most  his  trade; 

Whate'er  we  do  is  aptly  done, 

Be  't  making  prayers,  or  pies,  or  fun! 

But  others  haply  think  reverse, 

And,  stead  of  blessing,  deal  a  curse. 

One  calls  me  captious,  or  unkind, 

Another,  '"heretic,"  or  blind; 

Another,  ''bigot. "  dolt,  or  fo«l 

Fit  only  for  the  dunce's  stool; 

If  others  call  me  villain,  knave, 

Vile  mammon's,  or  ambition's  slave, 

What  of  it? — Let  them  gossip  on, 

I'll  never  heed  them  pro  or  con. 

But  if  they  say  I  wrong  the  truth; 

Or  am  insensible  of  ruth; 

Or  that  I  counter  run  to  justice, 

I  swear  as  Heaven  High  my  trust  is, 

To  throw  the  gauntlet,  join  the  issue 

And  ravel  out  their  lying  tissue. 

With  God  my  judge,  angels  my  jury, 

Let  them  array  their  hellish  fury, 

Appear  in  forms  of  fiends  or  men, 

I'll  lace  them  matched  as  one  to  ten — 

But  hold! — where  am  I — and  my  theme ?- 

My  Muse  has  d<>Zfd  me  into  dream, 

The  jade! — But  I'll  set  out  again, 

And  steady  her  with  tenser  rein. 

And  ''first  and  foremost '  let  me  tell 

We  all — myself  and  Em — are  well. — 

Yes,  Em,  my  model,  darling  Em! — 

A  peerless,  undisputed  gem — 

No  gem  Golconda  ever  furnished, 


TO  A  BROTHER  RHYMER. 


Immensely  richer  even  unburnished; 
Her  charms  are  true  intrinsic  worth, 
The  wealth  that  Heaven  bestows  in  earth. 

Poets,  crackbrained  verbal-cobblers. 

Gabble  and  prate  like  apes  and  gobblers, 

Of'  sylph  like  forms  and  fairy  faces, 

Of  taper-waists,  affected  ^ract-s; 

Of  neck  and  brow  of  ceruse  white, 

Neath  puff  and  frizzle,  left  and  right; 

Of  smiles  as  sunbeams,  tears  as  showers 

Of  bliss  from  Eden's  dewy  bowers; 

Of  teeth  as  of  the  coral  bed 

Where  naiads  or  the  mermaids  sleep, 

Or  as  of  ivory  mammoth  shed; 

Of  cheeks  as  roses  painted  deep, 

Or  eyes  as  stars,  or  li^s  as  rubies — 

Ho!  ye  crackbrains.  ye  are  boobies, 

Thus  to  ransack  earth,  all  nature 

Just  to  liken  human  creature! — 

Creature  with  undying  soul. 

Earth  his  cradle,  Heaven  his  goal. 

Your  twattle  on  a  theme  like  this 

Is  only  silly  childishness. 

To  be  consistent,  1  opine, 

Wisdom  bids  you  draw  this  line: 

'•Discard  the  human  form  divine 

At  once,  and  choose  with  skillful  hands, 

The  queen  of  Fashion's  artful  plans, 

And  conjure  up  of  cluy  or  plaster, 

Of  porcelain  or  alabaster, 

Or  paste  or  putty  or  of  dough, 

A  thing,  but  shape  it  so  and  so, 

With  puff  and  splinter,  chord  and  pad — 

[Without  these  any  forci  is  bad — ] 


58  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Borrow  tints  from  limner's  brushes" — 

(Hark! — a  whisper  gentle  hushes, 

Begs  my  music  be  admonished 

Lest  the  gentry  be  astonished; 

But  'tis  truth,  and  vow,  she'll  tell  it, 

Puddled  brimstone  tho'  she  smell  it!) 

"Paint  upon  it  shades  and  flushes, 

Counterfeiting  nature's  blushes; 

Teeth  it  with  chips  of  shells  and  pearls; 

As  shift  for  Juno's  merry  curls, 

Snatch  from  mane  of  Arab  steed 

Chestnut  tresses  as  you  need, — 

Range  all  items  tasty,  neat, 

[Call  it  charming  though  'ts  a  cheat] 

Obscure  all  nature  ever  did, 

[What  can't  be  banished  can  be  hid] 

Then  dress  in  keeping  with  the  rest — 

[Though  '-dressed  '  means  only  semi  dressed] 

And  o'er  the  whole  tack  frills  and  foolery 

Till  grave  baboons  convulse  with  drollery, 

And  you've  a  hull/  to  your  liking, 

With  form  and  gait  and  features  striking: 

A  creature  worthy  of  your  care, 

Soulless  as  its  makers  are!" 

Talk  of  sunbeams  stars  and  showers, 

Of  nectars  from  Kdenean  bowers, 

Of  corals  from  the  brackish  deep 

Where  mermaids  and  their  u\er-beaux  sleep 

With  trash  like  these  I  never  name  her, 

The  likening  would  but  defame  her. 

As  Sol  presides  without  a  peer, 

So  she.  the  winsome,  winning  t-lf, 

To  love  and  all  the  virtues  dear 

Is  like — like  nothing  but  herself! 


TO  A  BROTHER  RHYMER.       •  59 


No  sun  e'er  beamed  so  pure  a  ray; 
No  fragrant  bloom  so  sweet  and  gay 
As  Emma's  soul  of  love  and  truth, 
Perennial  in  blooming  youth; 
Shrinking  from  unholy  hands, 
In  its  spotless  beauty  stands; 
Shuns  the  path  the  sordid  plod, 
And  grows  the  image  of  her  God. 
Her  glowing  bosom  bliss-inspiring, 
Kindred  hearts  with  rapture  firing, 
Thrills  the  ardor  of  her  spouse, 
Wakes  anew  his  youthful  vows, 
Tames  the  tiger  to  the  dove, 
With  her  atmosphere  of  love. 
Emma  true  to  life  and  nature, 
Loved  and  Living  every  creature, 
From  all  wayward  impulse  free, 
Ne'er  forgets  propriety; 
Smooths  my  pillow,  lulls  to  rest, 
Sooths  niy  anguish  when  oppressed, 
Calms  my  passions  when  they  rise, 
Points  me  to  our  native  skies; 
Meekly  Heaven's  aid  imploring, 
First  cur  God,  then  me,  adoring. 
Is  she  not  a  treasure — say  ? 
If  not,  where  is  one  I  pray? 

What  more,  you  ask,  could  Heaven  bestow 
To  gladden  our  estate  below, 
And  make  our  pathway  smoother  run, 
Towards  our  goal — life's  setting  sun? 

We  own  our  blessings,  own  our  bliss, 
Exchange  the  uriforbidden  ki.-s; 
Our  conjugal  communion  sweet 


60  „  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Wants  one  thing  more  to  be  complete. 

Strangers  look  in  and  call  us  blessed, 

Declare  us  happier  than  the  rest. 

But  where's  the  "chit"  to  lisp  our  name, 

And  fan  the  phil'progenic  flame? 

Yes,  where  the  ''toddlin  wee  things" — where, 

To  while  away  domestic  care; 

To  dandle  on  the  parent  knee. 

And  win  them  with  their  guileless  glee? 

Those  plants  that  bud  in  life's  bright  spring, 

And  round  the  parent  branches  cling, 

To  glad  them,  as  in  opening  }outh, 

Their  minds  unfold  in  love  and  truth; 

Their  cares  increasing  to  assuage, 

And  guard  their  steps  in  drooping  age. 

Nature  designed  a  stately  son 

A  staff  for  age  to  lean  upon. 

But  childless  ones  their  P.  M   course, 

Decrepit  plod,  with  'bating  force; 

Burdens  increase  as  strength  decays; 

Forgot  by  friends  of  other  days: 

Thus  through  their  lonely,  long  downhill 

They  weary  totter,  totter  still. 

Oh,  friend,  I'm  at  a  goal  arrived, 
Befooled,  batnb  ioz  ed.  wheedled,  gyved; 
A  goal  I  never  started  for. — 
I  aimed  as  much  at  a  Punic  war  — 
My  teasing  Muse  has  run  me  hazy, 
Or  tantalized  me  blue  or  crazy. — 
But  never  mind  it!  if  I  die  for  't, 
I  just  as  well  may  hugh  as  cry  for  't. — 
And  here  I  east  my  quill  one  side, 
And  let  the  muse  and  fully  slide, 


BLOOMERS.  61 


Lest  something  worse  mayhap  befall  me, 
Or  simpleton  you  justly  call  me. 
But  deem  me, 

Yours,  through  smile  or  frown, 
Till  my  old  vital  clock  runs  down. 

APRIL  6th,  1851. 


BLOOMERS. 

'TO    UNIVERSAL    GIRLDOM." 


Come  girls,  don  the  Bloomers, 

That  model  attire, 
So  jimp,  so  convenient, 

I  look  to  admire! 

So  modest,  so  tidy,  so  tasty  and  trim, 
So  fitly  adapted  to  person  and  limb. 

The  dress  for  the  concert, 

The  visit,  the  call, 
The  church,  or  the  party, 
The  wedding,  the  ball, 

The  journey,  the  country,  the  city,  the  ville, 
Becoming  the  woman  go  whither  she  will. 

No  burden  of  dry  goods 

A  load  for  a  ship, 
Hung  fantastic  over 

And  trailing  from  hip 

And  brushing  the  army  of  brogans  they  meet, 
And  sweeping  the  sullage  of  sidewalk  and  street. 

No  tripping  of  suitors" 
At  dances  or  fairs. 


No  treading  on  dresses 

In  skipping  up  stairs, 
No  hazard  of  gathers,  of  flounces  or  tacks, 
Exposure  or  tangle  in  mounting  the  hacks. 

The  girls  in  their  Bloomers 

Can  caper  and  run, 
A  match  for  the  ''fellows" 

In  frolic  and  fun  ; 

Can  fleet  through  a  thicket,  scale  mountain  and  ledge, 
Chase  game  o'er  the  prairie,  or  vault  o'er  a  hedge. 

Let  silly  ones  rally 

And  bluff  you  with  sneers, 
What  matter  their  ranting 
And  flouting  and  jeers? 

Their  clacking  is  harmless,  and  stupid  their  jibe, 
Society  buzzards — detestable  tribe! 

Beshrew  the  vile  bnddice! — 

Why  longer  be  slaves 
To  Fashion,  that  goddess, 

The  quean  of  the  knaves? 

Spurn  lacing  and  padding,  those  tricks  of  the  gump, 
Let  waist  "slim  and  taper"  be  normal  and  plump. 

God  never  put  bnddice, 
Or  splinter  and  string 
On  robins  and  linnets, 

And  bade  them  to  sing; 
His  fashion  is  freedom  of  muscles  and  lungs, 
And  harmony  tempers  their  musical  tongues. 

('Twould  be  as  judicious 

To  rig  up  the  tongs 
In  dangling  dresses 

To  tangle  the  prongs, 


TOBACCO  CHEWING  PARSON.  63 


Then  press  them  to  serve  about  fireplace  or  stove, — 
How  labored  their  action  !  how  awkward  they  move!) 

God  never  rigged  rabbits 
And  fawns  of  the  wood 
In  draggling  habits 

To  trail  in  the  rnud; 

But  wrapped  them  in  vesture  so  simple  and  fair, 
To  gambol  and  frolic  as  free  as  the  air. 

The  lasses  of  Eden, 

The  Uouris,  are  dressed 
In  Bloomers  befittii  g 

That  land  of  the  blessed, 

Their  swains  in  love-making  seem  ravished  with  bliss, 
To  see  them  in  costume  so  charming  as  this. 

So  doff  the  old  prisons, 
Nor  don  them  again, 
That  bring  to  the  living 

Death,  trouble  and  pain ! 
Put  on  the  new  'part-1  so  natty  and  warm, 
Both  shelter  and  shadow  in  sunshine  and  storm. 

February  20th,  1852. 


OUR  TOBACCO  CHEWING  PARSON. 


Our  Parson  tells  us  of  a  "Holy  Ghost," 

[Its  meaning  puzzles  louts  like  us  to  ferret], 

Applauding  it  with  many  a  pious  toast, 

A  thing  of  glorious,  transcendent  merit, 

And  no  doubt  pure!  for  so  he  bold  proclaims  it 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


In  pulpit,  with  a  cheek  distended  wide 

With  that  inspiring  morsel,  "quid,"  he  calls  it, 

Of  the  narcotic  weed  that  some  kill  lice  with, 

And  not  an  angel  ever  could  be  nice  with, 

Nor  any  art  or  subterfuge  can  hide: 

His  mumbling  tongue  splutters  in  the  juice 

Till  dikes  comply,  and  spurts  the  stinking  sluice! 

If  Ghost  keeps  Holy  coming  such  a  way, 

Nothing  can  foul  it,  come  through  what  it  may ! 


BIPED  TOBACCO  WORMS. 


Oh,  Tobacco- 
Vile  Tobacco — 

Oh,  the  nerve-searing  weed! 
Eat  or  drink  it — 
Who  would  think  it — 

Ever  make  it  human  feed! 
The  exotic 
Narcotic 

From  barbarous  Yucatan, 
Savage  folly — 
Melancholy ! — 

Saddled  sorely  on  man. 

Chorus:  Oh,  I  pity, 

Pity,  pity— 

Oh,  Tobacco's  poor  slave! 
He  is  drunken, 
He  is  sunken, 
Now  no  more  the  free,  brave: 


BIPED   TOBACCO   WORMS.  65 


How  depraving, 

Ever-slaving, 
Is  his  craving  who  can  tell? 

Oh,  it  thralls  him, 

Oh,  it  palls  him, 
Oh,  he's  cravened  with  the  spell! 

Oh,  his  chawing, 

Chawing,  chawing, 
Drivel  drawing  from  his  cud; 

Oh.  his  spitting, 

Spitting,  spitting, 
Miss  or  hitting  with  his  flood! 

Oh.  his  puffing, 

Puffing,  puffin yr, 
Cheeks  a  fuffing  with  the  fume! 

Lord  deliver 

Me  forever 
From  his  breath  and  sputtered  spume! 

Oh,  their  "dipping," 

Women  dipping, 
Dribble  dripping  Maccaboy; 

Nasty  uring, 

Past  enduring — 
Only  luring  to  destroy! 

Lapping,  dusting — 

How  disgusting 
Is  this  lusting  from  the  South! 

Fusty  blisses 

Are  the  kisses 
Of  the  Miss'  dirty  mouth? 

Oh,  the  snuffing, 
Snuffing,  snuffing 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


"Rappee"  stuffing  in  the  head: 
Nose  a  dust  hole, 
And  the  worst  hole 

But  that  curs'd  hole,  Pluto's  shade! 
So  they  snuff  it, 
Chaw  and  puff  it, 

Spit  and  blurt  it  here  and  there, 
Till  we  fear  us, 
Lest  they  near  us 

And  besmear  us  with  a  share. 


Priestly  Religion  's  but  a  brilliant  toy — 
Mere  Fashion's  plaything,  witlings  to  decoy, 
And  idle  maudlin  folly  to  enjoy. 


WHO  IS  THE  MURDERED  WIFE? 


Not  she  who  meets  the  assassin's  stroke 

Of  pistol,  bludgeon  or  knife; 
Nor  who  on  the  racking  wheel  is  broke — 

Not  she  is  the  murdered  wife. 

Not  she  who  flung  on  the  Bramin's  pyre, 

Or  sinks  in  the  battle's  strife, 
Or  han«s  to  appease  the  law's  dread  ire — 

Not  she  is  the  murdered  wife. 

Not  she  who,  mad  with  the  Lethean  draught 
Or  perfidy — stung  out  of  life; 


Or  slain  by  the  red-man's  venomed  shaft- 
Not  she  is  the  murdered  wife. 

But  she  who,  ruled  by  him  who  sways 
The  law,  the  purse  and  the  sword, 

In  murderous  dread  the  beck  obeys 
Of  him  the  law  made  her  lord: 

She  who  endures  the  angry  tongue, 
And  pales  in  the  raging  grip, — 

Her  tender  soul  more  keenly  stung 
By  the  scorn  of  the  curling  lip. 

Who  meets  the  assault  of  the  fiery  eye, 
And  suffers  the  weight  of  blows; 

Hears  words  that  human  soul  deny 
And  fiendish  soul  disclose. 

'Tis  she  who  cares  and  suffers  and  toils 

In  a  home  of  endless  strife, 
A  pittance  scant  her  only  spoils, 

She,  she  is  the  murdered  wife! 

Thus  all  the  tendrils  that  would  twine, 

And  senses  to  chime  in  tune, 
All  blighted  as  the  tender  vine 

Is  bitten  by  frost  in  June. 

So  custom  and  law  have  fixed  her  sphere, 
And  doomed  her  to  abject  life! 

And  where  is  endured  lot  half  so  drear 
As  this,  the  slow-murdered  wife? 


68  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


THE  OLD  WIFE  AND  THE  NEW. 

The  old  wife  toiled  in  the  kitchen, 

A  slave  to  her  family  care: 
The  new  wife  is  served  by  domestics, 

And  rocks  in  her  parlor  chair. 

The  old  wife  brought  all  the  water, 
Even  cut_her  own  wood  at  the  door: 

The  new  one  reclines  on  her  sofa, 
Scarce  setting  her  foot  to  the  floor. 

The  old  wife  was  cook,  to  be  chided 

And  faulted  for  every  dish: 
The  new  one  is  petted  and  feasted 

And  cherished  in  every  wish. 

The  old  wife  so  patiently  struggled, 

Though  wants  and  desires  were  denied; 

The  new  is  regaled  with  her  novels, 
And  courted  to  visit  and  ride. 

The  old  wife  schemed  for  a  garment 

In  which  to  be  decently  seen : 
The  new  one  is  robed  in  apparel 

Befitting  a  Duchess  or  Queen. 

The  old  wife  was  'bashed  with  vile  language, 

So  shocking  to  delicate  ear: 
The  new  is  most  kindly  and  softly 

Addressed  as  '-My  Dearest  Dear." 

Thus  the  old  wife  was  labored  and  jaded 
And  pushed  to  a  premature  grave : 

While  the  new  is  an  idle  consumer 
Of  all  that  her  pleasure  can  crave. 


THE  WOMAN.  69 


THE  WOMAN. 


A  clothes-horse  to  labor 
And  tug, 

The  Juggernaut  Fashion 
To  lug. 
Alas  for  the  women 

Whom  fashion  depraves — 
One  sex  of  the  human 
Fit  only  for  slaves! 

She  toys  with  her  beauty 

And  birth, 
And  sports  with  her  duty 

And  worth; 
Devoted  to  Fashion 

And  chained  in  her  team, 
'Tis  the  impulse  and  passion 
Of  the  woman's  life-dream! 

At  the  nod  of  opinion 

She  falls 
A  pitiful  minion, 

And  crawls,- 
A  mind  so  enslaven'— 
Contented  to  be — 
A  spirit  so  craven 
How  can  it  be  free! 

0,  Sol !  Hide  thy  glories 
In  weeds, 

And  night  will  envelop 

Her  deeds. 


70  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


0,  Luna,  fair  Luna, 
Deep  shadow  thy  face, 

For  the  lapse  of  thy  sisters, 
Thy  sex's  disgrace! 

0,  ye  stars  droop  your  eyelids 

And  weep, 
Till  embosomed  in  Lethe 

Ye  sleep, 
For  the  weakness  of  woman 

Who  folly  thus  craves, 
One  sex  of  the  human 
Fit  only  for  slaves! 


THE  GUARDIAN. 

THE     UNITED    SEVEN. 


"Take  me  to  thy  heart!"  said  a  timid  young  maid, 

A  deep  mantled  blush  on  her  cheek, 
In  manner  so  modest,  so  sweetly  afraid, 

That  she  startled  to  hear  herself  speak. 
Proportions  so  peerless  no  creature  could  show, 

To  heighten  would  more  than  complete; 
Her  countenance  lit  with  such  angelic  glow, 

Enravished,  I  fell  at  her  feet: 

So  enchantingly  pure  this  spirituous  flower. 

So  timidly  shrinking  from  touch, 
I  called  her  Divine! — 0,  Omnipotent  Power! 

Was  T  faulty  for  deeming  her  such! 
I  paused:  and  anon  a  presence  appeared; 

I  listened  to  what  it  would  say : 


THE  GUARDIAN.  71 


It  bid  me  "embrace  the  enchantress  T  heard, 
And  walk  in  her  life-cheering  way!" 

"This  nymph  is  Young  Innocence  blending 

With  Modesty,  Purity,  Truth 
And  Virtue  and  Love,  and  are  lending 

To  Beauty  its  undying  Youth. 

"Take  her  to  thy  bosom  and  cherish, 

Nor  suffer  her  more  to  depart ; 
She  comes  to  enlighten  and  nourish, 

To  soothe  and  to  gladden  the  heart; 
Embrace  her,  her  sweets  are  supernal 

And  wake  not  a  blush  or  a  tear, 
Embrace,  for  her  charms  are  eternal 

And  bloom  through  an  undying  year. 

"She  may  drink  of  the  bubbling  fountain; 

Or  lave  in  the  bright  purling  rill, 
Or  sniff  the  wild  breeze  of  the  mountain, 

Or  laugh  with  sunshine  on  the  hill; 
She  may  ramble  in  woodland  or  meadow, 

Or  regale  in  the  shade  at  her  ease; 
She  may  cull  fresh  flowers  of  the  prairie, 

Or  the  bloom  that  o'erspangles  the  trees. 

"The  beasts  of  the  field  shall  befriend  her, 

And  the  birds  warble  carols  of  bliss, 
The  eagle  his  pinions  shall  lend  her,          • 

And  the  dove  give  her  welcoming  kiss. 
The  pole  shall  provide  her  with  ermine, 

And  Afric  present  her  a  plume, 
Pearls  shall  be  the  gift  of  old  Ocean, 

And  the  Indies  will  waft  their  perfume. 


72  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


"And  when  this  earth  ceases  revolving 

And  swings  from  its  balancing  pole, 
Creation  in  dotage  dissolving, 

And  the  heavens  rolled  up  as  a  scroll, 
Then  the  stars  shall  be  gathered  as  jewels 

To  circle  her  glorious  neck, 
And  the  sun  as  a  gem  will  be  chosen 

Her  hallowed  bosom  to  deck." 


TO  ELLA.. 


As  thirsty  noon-beams  panting  peer 

Through  blooming  foliage  to  the  pool, 
To  slake  their  drouth  in  waters-clear 

That  soft  repose  in  bower  so  cool, 
So  pants  my  thirsting  soul  to  grasp 

Thee,  matchless  Ella, — empress  charms  !- 
And  to  my  aching  bosom  clasp 

Thy  spotless  image  in  niy  arms. 

No  marring  pencil  ever  traced 

One  line  upon  thy  form  so  fair; 
Nor  was  one  beauty  e'er  effaced, 

But  all  are  fresh  and  blooming  there. 
Just  so,  the  beauties  of  thy  mind 

Shine  out  in  all  their  native  love 
Truth,  Virtue,  Purity,  combined, 

Begotten  in  the  realm  above. 


THIS  AGE.  73 


Wilt  not  thou,  Sweet  One,  deign  one  smile 

To  soothe  this  burning  heart  of  mine — 
To  snatch  me  from  this  drear  exile, 

Where  all  within  can  only  pine? 
One  beck  from  thee  would  cheat  the  grave, 

And  save  me  from  its  dread  embrace; 
Nought  but  thy  magic  power  can  save 

The  hopeless  wretch  that  seeks  thy  grace. 


THIS  AGE. 


This  Age  is  an  age  of  progression, 

The  people  go  crazed  on  improvement; 

Staid  ones  are  leaving  time-honored  professions 

To  grab  for  some  newly-born  movement. 

All  things  beyond  yesterday,  stupid  and  stale; 

No  speed  short  of  U60  per  hour  on  the  rail !" 

Time  was  when  they  practiced  good  will  toward  others, 
And  argued  that  all  men  should  mingle  as  brothers, 
And  treat  with  affection  wives,  sisters  and  mothers, 
But  these  shallow  graces  are  banished  the  schools. 
In  chant,  or  in  anthem. —  Who'd  tune  it  or  time  it! — 
In  song,  or  in  sonnet, — Who'd  rhythm  or  rhyme  it! — 
The  sweet  melophene, — Who'd  tone  it  or  chime  it! — 
These  items  are  trifles,  the  small  work  of  fools. 

In  the  rules  of  the  age,  what  contrivers  or  planners 
Would  think  of  instilling  good  morals  or  manners; 
Or  wish  for  sweet  Pi-act;  to  oYrhover  their  banners, 
Since  a  prayer  is  valued  far  k-ss  than  an  oath ! 


74  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


\ 

For  the  feelings  and  pleasures  of  others  uncaring, — 
Their  common  palaver  is  swa<jgerin<.",  swearing; 
Harpstrings  of  the  social  thus  wantonly  tearing, 
Begins  with  the  bantling  and  grows  with  his  growth. 

"So  clamor  these  ranters,  that  woman  is  equal 

Of  man ! — In  soothing  their  ardor  determine  to  speak 

well 

Of  nothing  that  is, — but  we'll  show  in  the  sequel 
That  woman  nov:  fills  her  appropriate  place: 
Just  cast  back  the  glance  to  remote  misty  ages, 
And  trace  her  relation  down  history's  pages, 
Acknowledged  by  doctors,  priests,  poets  and  sages, 
She's  but  an  append  to  the  masculine  race." 

Who'd  be  so  insane  as  to  set  obligation, 

Except  the  acknowledged  one,  "consideration!" — 

Every  man  is  a  sovereign — a  masterly  nation ! — 

With  manifest  destiny  wide  as  the  earth. 

Enlightened  Benevolence  now  is  a  bubble 

And  Justice  and  Mercy  not  worth  half  their  trouble: 

The  Money  Machine  is  the  only  thing  noble — 

The  only  creation  deserving  a  birth. 

The  Democrat  boor  turns  jobber  and  banker — 
Nabob  of  the  a<re;  his  better  though  lanker, 
Adown  at  his  heels,  and  minus  a  spanker, 
The  Slave  digs  his  Master's  per  cent  from  the  soil. 
'Tis  Democrat  justice  :  rich  power  may  revel 
In  wealth,  while  the  serf  finds  his  plebeian  level, 
Forked  over  at  last  to  the  dogs  or  the  devil, 
Or  the  dirt  where  his  hands  were  so  ured  to  toil. 

February,  1855. 


THE  SLEEP Y  BABY.  75 


THE  SLEEPY  BABY.* 

Sat  a  doating  mother,  mild, 
In  her  lap  a  little  child ; 
Never  sweeter  cherub  smiled 

In  the  land  of  bliss: 
Eyes  of  finer  light  and  blue 
Never  met  fond  mother's  view — 
Telling  of  the  good  and  true — 

Than  were  seen  in  this. 

Charming  chubby  eight  months  old, 
Every  day  new  leads  unfold 
Richer  than  Australian  gold; 

In  the  mother's  eye, 
One  such  brilliant  does  out-shine 
Sun,  and  moon,  and  stars  divine, 
Though  they  interblend  infine 

Through  the  o'erbeuding  sky. 

Soon  the  baby  tires  of  play, 
Flings  his  playthings  all  away, 
Becks  the  sleepy  baby's  Fay, 

Falls  on  mother's  breast, 
Cuddles  puling  in  the  lap — 
licstlcss  for  his  wonted  nap — 
Takes  his  anodyne,  the  pap, 

Sinks  to  quiet  rest. 

In  that  Lethe  of  repose, 
Every  ill  the  bahy  knows 
Fades  like  dewdrop  from  the  rose. 
Blessed,  balmy  sleep! — 

*Albert  II.  Sears  (adopted). 


76  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Sleep  on,  darling — sleep,  sleep  on, 
Angels  wait  thy  rest  upon; 
Mamma  breathes  her  orison 
From  her  bosom's  deep. 

PLANO,  Ills.,  February  1st,  1857. 


THE  SUPREME. 


0,  Thou  Supreme,  Creative  Law! 

[Whence  minor  laws  their  force,  and  mode, 
And  wondrous  skill  and  wisdom  draw], 

Thee  I  adore  and  call  Thee  GOD. 

The  loves  in  human  souls  that  shine 
Abloom  in  such  communion  sweet, 

Particles  are  of  Thee,  Divine, 

And  pay  to  Thee  their  homage  meet. 

The  fruits  of  plant  and  shrub  and  tree, 
Bespeak  Thy  Wisdom,  Goodness,  Love, 

Recall  my  truant  thoughts  towards  Thee, 
And  woo  me  toward  the  life  above. 

The  tiny  flowers  whose  peering  eyes 
Up  glint  from  out  the  virgin  sod, 

Whisper  and  smile  'neath  sun  and  skies, 
Sweet  incense  to  their  parent,  God. 

The  birds  that  tune  their  mellow  throats 

To  Nature's  matchless  cadences, 
Tune  but  to  Thee  their  richest  notes, 

Their  purest,  deepest  symphonies. 


THE  SUPREME.  77 


Each  flinty  leaf  and  bone  and  shell 

Embalmed  in  stone  from  dateless  yore, 

Of  Thee  a  wondrous  tale  does  tell 
Of  countless  cycles  gone  before. 

No  fragrance  of  the  scented  rose; 
No  dewdrop  in  the  lily's  cell; 
No  fountain  from  the  ledge  that  flows; 
No  streamlet  dancing  through  the  dell; 
No  wave  of  ocean's  pulsing  tide; 
No  pebble  on  the  shining  shore; 
No  mountain  high;  no  prairie  wide; 
No  drifting  snow;  no  cascade's  roar; 
No  prismed  bow;  no  vernal  shower; 
No  tempest  fell;  no  thunder's  crash; 
No  earthquake's  heave;   no  whirlwind's  power; 
No  beaming  star;   no  lightning's  flash; 
No  forest  green;   no  barren  sand; 
No  beetling  cliff";  no  grassy  s.id, 
But  owns  its  source,  Thy  forming  hand, 
Owns  Thee  Creator,  owns  Thee  God! 

'Tis  thus  from  out  All  Nature's  Heart, 

Spontaneous  adoration  springs, 
Warms  and  illumes  each  sentient  part, 

And  Life  respondent  ceaseless  sings. 

March  4th,  1863. 


78  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


'BE  TRUE  TO  THYSELF.' 


Be  true  to  thyself — though  a  maxim  unwrit 
In  the  statutes  and  laws  and  traditions  of  old; 

Though  a  gem  in  old  Tyranny's  crown  never  set, — 
'Tis  a  jewel  more  precious  than  silver  or  gold. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  ever  bubbles  the  fountain; 

Gushing  and  sparkling  and  rollicking  free, 
Born  of  the  granites  and  sands  of  the  mountain, 

And  hieing  to  rest  in  the  deep-bosomed  sea. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  sighs  the  dark  gleaming  river, 
With  historic  story  from  ages  the  firct, 

As  it  shimmers  along  its  green  valleys  forever, 
To  sooth  the  old  sea-god's  unquenchable  thirst. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  booms  the  turbulent  ocean, 
Dashing  its  surges  upon  the  lee  shore, 

[Old  Neptune's  life  pulses  in  angry  commotion], 
Or  hushing  their  breakers  to  lullaby  roar. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  petrel  is  crying, 
Sweeping  aloft  through  the  hurricane's  rave, 

Queen  of  the  scene  where  the  tempest  is  flying, 
Braving  alike  the  tornado  and  wave. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  eagle  is  screaming; 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  grim  lion  roars; 
"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  swallow  is  streaming, 

And  the  thrush  in  the  bush  her  re-echoing  pours. 


4SE  TRUE  TO  THYSELF."  79 


"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  tiny  bee  humming; 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  loud  rallies  the  lark; 
"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  partridge  is  drumming, 

And  approving,  the  firefly  kindles  her  spark. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  gay  peacock  clamors; 

"Be  true  to  thyst-lf,"  the  guinea-hen  chimes; 
"Be  true  to  thyself,"  the  woodpecker  hammers, 

"Be  true  to  thy  nature,  relations  and  times!" 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  is  a  maxim  of  Love, 
Imblending  itself  with  each  sensitive  force; 

The  wisdom  of  ages  and  light  from  above, 

All  Nature's  prime  mover  and  God  for  its  source. 

"Be  true  to  thyself,"  is  the  maxim  of  God, 
With  the  promise  of  final  fruition  replete, 

As  well  of  the  Heaven  where  man  never  trod, 
As  of  dark  earth  material  under  his  feet. 

June,  1863. 


'COME  TO  THE  CONCERT?' 


The  church  bell  is  dinging 

Its  clangor  and  moan, 
A-swinging  and  singing 

In  solo  alone ; 
Out-ringing  and  flinging 

Its  grave  monotone 
In  call  to  the  concert: 
CHORUS  : — "Come  to  the  concert, 

Come  to  the  concert,  come?" 


80  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


The  redbreast  is  pouring 

A  matin  so  sweet, 
The  echoes  encoring, 

The  warbles  repeat; 
Devotion  adoring 

Confesses  the  treat, 
And  hies  to  the  concert: 

'•Come  to  the  concert/'  &c. 

The  thrush  on  the  apple 

In  high  pressure  steam 
Is  dashing  the  orchard 

With  rollicking  stream — 
A  roistering  river 

Of  musical  ream — . 
That  bids  to  the  concert: 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

The  lark  in  the  meadow 

At  gloaming  of  day 
Inditing  responses 

In  emulous  lay, 
In  cadence  so  mellow 

That  seemeth  to  say: 
"Come  all  to  the  concert!" 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

.    (IN  WINTER). 

The  beautiful  snow 

Is  merry  with  song, 
A-lifting  and  sifting 

And  shifting;  along 


COME  TO  THE  CONCERT.  81 

Like  musical  manna, 

Inviting  the  throng 
To  glide  to  the  concert. 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

The  dainty  wind  skimmers 

The  crystalized  steaui, 
The  reefy  snow  t-himmers; 

The  shiny  tracks  gleam; 
The  stars'  idle  glimmers 

Melodious  seem 
Of  mystical  concert: 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

The  sleigh  bells  are  rhyming 

Their  musical  mode; 
The  creaking  sleighs  chiming 

Beneath  the  gay  lo;id, 
The  prancing  steed  timing 

Their  pace  on  the  road 
In  speed  to  the  concert: 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

All  Nature  it  quaffing 

The  musical  bowl, 
This  life  of  the  spirit 

And  food  of  the  soul : 
The  angels  with  music 

I {cgale  and  console, 
United  in  concert: 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &o. 

In  music  our  kindred 

Stoop  down  from  the  skies, 


82  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


In  during  affection 

Of  unbroken  ties, 
To  wake  aspirations, 

And  pray  us  to  rise 
To  heavenly  concert: 

"Come  to  the  concert,"  &c. 

1865. 


WELCOME  TO  OUR  RETURNING  SOLDIERS. 


Companies  "F"  and  "K,"  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-seventh 
Regiment,  Illinois  Volunteer  Infantry.  This  regiment  went 
through  to  the  coast  with  Sherman.  The  boys  returned  here 
the  nth  of  June,  1865,  and  were  welcomed  to  a  dinner  in  the 
grove  at  L.  Steward's.  This  piece  was  got  up  for  that  occasion, 
and  was  read  there. 

Hail  to  the  Heroes  we  welcome  to-day, 

Back  to  our  tables,  our  hearts,  and  our  homes! 

Clear  ye  the  track  for  the  gallant  array; 

Unfurl  your  banners  and  rattle  your  drums! 

Welcome  our  Heroes  with  laurels  o'erhung, 
Earned  in  the  conflicts  of  felaughter  and  blood, 

Where  from  the  Rebels  the  conquest  they  wrung; 
And  proud  in  his  glory  each  Patriot  stood. 

Called  by  his  country  in  peril  and  need; 

Proud  to  be  marshalled  beneath  the  Old  Stars; 
Ready  to  follow  where  Sherman  would  lead, 

Crushing  rebellion  and  trampling  its  ''bars:" 


WELCOME  RETURNING  SOLDIERS. 


83 


Heroes  of  Chickasaw,  Arkansaw  Post, 

Mission  Ridge,  Vicksburg,  Champion  Hill, 

Jonesborough,  Atlanta  and — on  to  the  coast 
The  invisible  Phalanx  marched  conquerors  still. 

i     These  are  our  fathers  and  brothers  and  sons, 

Grimed  with  exp>sure  and  labor  and  sweat; 
Scarred  with  torpedos  and  sabres  and  guns, 
Scenes  and  privations  they'll  never  forget. 

Ye  children,  and  mothers,  and  sisters,  and  wives, 
Who've  waited  their  absence  in  sadness  so  long, 

And  dreamed  of  the  perils  that  threatened  their  lives, 
Nor  smiled  at  a  banquet,  nor  joined  in  a  song, 

Come  now  to  this  feast,  for  your  grieving  is  past — 
The  sun  of  your  sorrow  forever  is  set — 

The  bliss  of  reunion  comes  greeting  at  last, 
And  the  kiss  of  affection  is  given  and  met. 

Fond  mother!  again  hug  your  boy  to  your  heart; 

Here  end  your  dark  bodings  and  w Etchings  and  fears: 
Dire  war  will  compel  you  more  never  to  part — 

Come  bathe  him  in  kisses  and  wash  him  in  tears? 

Not  the  tears  that  you  shed  on  him  three  years  ago, 
When  the  war-dogs  were  howling  so  fierce  on  our 
track; 

And  our  sky  seemed  o'erdraped  with  a  mantle  of  woe, 
Nor  Hope  dared  to  whisper  and  promise  him  back; 

But  the  tears  of  affection  now  pleasure-distilled 
From  a  bosom  so  full  that  without  them  'twould 
burst! — 

Thanks  to  High  Heaven  his  blood  was  not  spilled, 
And  his  corse  left  to  min<rle  the  battlefield's  dust! 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Here  one  pang  embitters  the  cup  of  our  sweet, 

When  we  think  of  the  comrades  who  can  not  return; 

Slain  by  the  insurgent  foes  they  did  meet, 

And  the  wiid  plains  of  Dixie  their  relics  inurn ! 

But  praise  to  the  Power  who  has  favored  our  case, 
And  wrought  for  the  right  in  the  violent  fray, 

Though  in  purging  our  Nation,  her  Charters  and  Laws, 
He  washed  in  our  bloud  her  transgressions  away! 

We  feel  the  chastising  and  bow  to  the  rod, 
And  pray  the  atoning  baptism  may  ceas^e? 

And  Mercy  and  Wisdom  and  Goodness  of  God, 
May  crown  us  a  union  of  Justice  and  Peace! 

Then  hail  to  the  Heroes  we  welcome  to-day, 
Back  to  our  tables,  our  hearts,  and  our  homes! 

Clear  ye  the  track  for  the  gallant  array — 
Unfurl  your  banners  and  rattle  your  drums! 

PLAN-O,  Illinois,  June  17th,  1865. 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDY. 
[FRANK  ARDOUR  AND  JENNIE  FLY.] 


Frank  was  a  frolicking, 
Roistering,  rolllicking, 

Mischievous  lad; 
Some  years  a  minor, 

Not  essentially  bad, 
Nor  a  bit  of  a  whiner. 

A  juvenile  nation 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUND7.  85 


Inspired  him  to  launch 
His  young  perogue  staunch 

Out  on  life's  ocean. 
And  wanting  a  wife, 

Or  something  akin  to  it, 
To  sweeten  his  life, 

Eager  plunged  into  it 
With  heedless  devotion. 


In  the  bevy  of  girls, 
The  prides  of  their  mothers, 

So  merry  and  many, 

He  found  never  any 
To  equal  one  Jennie 

The  Queen  of  the  group. — 
Her  dentals  so  pearly, 
And  ringlets  so  curly, 
Her  dimples  and  blushes 
And  fadings  and  flushes, 

Eclipsed  all  the  others; 
Were  others  divine, 

She  was  diviner; 
Who  essayed  to  shine, 

She  would  outshine  her — 
O'er-match  the  whole  troop — 

With  her  arts  and  her  flashes, 

Her  top-knots  and  lashes 

And  dallying  tresses; 

Her  luscious  caresses 

And  deep  clinging  kisses 

So  earnest  of  blis 

Beyond,  did  him  rapture, 

Completing  his  capture 
In  the  mystical  loop. 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Now  Jennie's  mamma 

Was  a  watchful  old  bruin, 
Proud  and  ambitious, 
Shrewd  and  suspicious, 
Scheming  and  zealous, 
Artful  and  jealous, 
[So  gossip  does  tell  us, 

And  prudence  presumes,] 
Lest  her  daughter  should  ruin 

By  luckless  /rnw-^f/s, 
Her  fair  maiden  fame, 
Or  the  family  name, 
By  singeing  her  plumes 
In  the  amorous  flame. 

Here  Frank  was  encroaching 
The  family  laws; 

Too  eager  to  loo 
He  damaged  his  cause — 
Was  reckless  and  rash, 
Deserving  the  lash 
Or  a  merited  snub. 

'Twas  peril  >us  poaching; 
Few  striplings  would  dare 
To  rifle  the  cub. 
And  the  petted  one  too, 
Of  such  arch  mother  bear. 

Had  the  shaver  but  waited 

And  planned  the  affair, 
And  as  he  grew  older 
As  wiser  grown  bolder, 
Peering  over  her  shoulder 
He  might  have  cajoled  her, 
In  honey  words  told  her 
He  came  but  to  woo, 

He  might  have  been  mated 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDY.  87 


With  little  ado, 

And  saved  the  old  bruin 

The  chafing  and  tear 
Of  the  passion  she  flew  in. 

But  Frank  was  a  "brick," 

Foxy  and  plucky 
In  whatever  trick 

Would  "turn  him  up"  lucky. 

All  the  while  a  young  demon 

Was  artfully  fixing 
A  mystical  potion 
"With  su^ar  and  cream"  on, 
For  Jennie  and  Frank; 
They  tasted  the  notion 

And  relished  the  mixing, 
And  freely  they  drank. 

Young  Hymen  came  by 
All  dressed  for  a  wedding, 
A  bright  halo  shedding 
On  every  one  present 
Wherever  he  went, 
And  paused  just  asunder. 

With  a  teur  in  his  eye, 
In  querying  wonder 
And  tremors  unpleasant, 

Lest  Jennie  should  swallow, 
Without  his  consent, 
Or  a  place  to  repent, 
The  teeming  elixir 
The  demon  did  mix  her, 
And  what  too  would  follow. 

The  die  too  soon  cast, — 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


She  drained  off  the  goblet; 
The  rubicon  passed, 
She  found  it  a  job  let 

To  end  by  and  by, 
In  flurry  and  worry 
And  skurry  and  hurry, 
And  trundlings  and  bundlings. 
And  doctors  and  nurses 
And  like  needful  fusses, 
Like  all  blunder  ''busses," 

And  a  great  hue  and  cry. 

At  seeing  her  falter. 
Was  Hymen  to  blame 
To  proffer  his  name 
To  ward  off  the  scandal 
And  cover  her  shame, 
And  her  virtuous  candle 

Re-light  at  his  Altar     . 
With  immaculate  flame? 

Sly  Cupid  stole  Jennie, 
So  reckons  repute ; 
(A  trick  most  uncanny,) 
Yet  nobody  known  it, 
Nor  will  she  disclose  it 
Except  in  the  fruit 
She  brought  as  a  witness 
Attesting  her  fitness 
For  runaway  match 
Including  the  hatch 
Of  the  conjugal  batch. 

I  said  Cupid  stole  her: 
No  odds  how  he  got  her, 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDY.  89 


He  now  may  control  her, 

Since  Hymen  has  sought  her 

And  in  partnership  brought  her; 

Angelic  consoler 

Of  maculate  daughter, — 

To  save  her  at  least 

From  pending  disaster,' 

He  spread  her  his  plaster 

Put  on  by  the  Priest. 

So  Frank  got  his  Jennie, 

And  also  his  baby; 
Such  things  oft  have  been, 

And  often  too,  may  be. 
But  the  flashing  and  lashing 
And  gnashing  and  dashing, — 
The  eyes'  fiery  glare 
Of  raving  despair 
Of  this  mother  bruin 
Foaming  in  wrath 
For  the  young  rascal's  ruin 
If  he  cauie  in  her  path! 

Ma'm  Grundy  "Knows  Cupid 

Committed  the  rape, 

Just  like  him!"   So  oft 

He'd  exposed  her  in  shape 

Derisive. — some  sober, 

Or  shabby,  or  stupid, 

Or  laughable  scrape, 

When  he  took  him  a  cue 

To  "raid"  and  unrobe  her, 

And  lift  her  aloft. 

For  rustics  to  view — 

That  she  swore  "he  should  never- 


90 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


The  pestering  rake — 
Be  free  in  her  realm, 
While  she  held  the  lever 
That  governs  the  helm!" 
So  her  agencies  clever 
With  faithful  endeavor, 
Pursue  him  and  take  him 
And  halter  and  snake  him 

To  the  marge  of  that  lake, — 
The  sulphurous  puddle — 
Where  old  sinners  huddle, 
And  young  babies  cuddle, 

For  Mercy's  dear  sake, 

Atoning  for  sin : 
Then  Madam  does  take  him 
And  o'er  the  coals  rake  him, 
And  seethe  him  and  boil  him 
And  blister  and  broil  him 
And  fry  him  and  roast  him 
And  scorch  him  and  toast  him. 
And  crisp  him  and  bake  him 
And  then  pitch  him  in 

To  that  pious  baptism. 
Here  end  .the  love-labors 
Of  her  and  her  neighbors, 

And  devils'  begin ; 
In  that  brimstone  boiling 
They  are  vicing  and  toiling, 
Anointing  his  stains, 
And  scalding  his  blains 

In  their  sulphurous  chrysm, 
And  basting  it  in ! 

Let  me  say  to  all  parties 
Whose  the  pleasure  or  smart  is, 


EPIG  OF  MADAM  GRUND7.  91 


Whose  the  blessings  or  ills; 
Just  mingle  and  season, 
Cook  and  eat  your  own  hash, 
[For  this  is  but  reason,] 
And  foot  your  own  bills 
Both  of  conscience  and  cash, 
And  quiet  your  clash  ! 

CANTO  II. 

Far  away  was  her  Frank 
With  the  brave  Volunteers; 
Though  a  stripling  in  years 
He  in  '  Staff"  held  his  rank. 

Meanwhile  Jennie  came 
With  her  Corydon's  name, 
Meekly  repenting, 

Home  to  her  mother, 

Saying  she'd  brought  her 
Her  primal  grand-daughter, 
And  prayed  to  be  taken 
Like  any  forsaken, 

To  sister  and  brother 
And  father  and  home, 
Thence  no  more  to  roam. 
The  matron  relenting, 
With  a  tear  in  her  eye, 
And  a  motherly  sigh, 
Embraced  her  and  kissed  her 
Solaced  her  and  blessed  her 
With  welcoming  grace, 
And  gave  her  her  place 
In  the  family  fry. 


92  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Now  here  was  condition 
For  ample  fruition ; 
A  fancy  position 
To  fill  her  ambition  ; 
Nice  gallant  young  men 
Both  wedded  and  single, 
To  flirt  with  and  mingle 
And  dangle  and  jingle 
As  pleased  her  and  when. 

Sheltered  by  night, 

Or  screened  by  a  curtain, 
"Where  is  the  hurt  in 
A  perch  on  the  lap 
Of  a  darling  dear  fellow, 
Or  a  comforting  nap 
On  his  sociable  pillow  ? 

He  's  such  a  delight!" — 
And  aids  her  so  much 
With  his  magical  touch, 
In  lifting  the  weeds 
That  weigh  the  "grass"  widow 
Like  fogs  on  the  meadow, 
And  soothing  her  needs. 

These  all  take  a  part  in 
The  sparkling  bicker 
Of  coquetting  liquor 
She's  steeping  her  heart  in; 
But  'tis  only  the  froth 
That  floats  on  the  broth 
Of  her  conjugal  stew, 
Flung  off  in  flirtation 
To  save  palpitation; 
New-plighting  her  troth 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUND7.  93 


By  this  free  ventilation, 
Her  virtues  grow  purer, 
And  constancy  surer, 

Her  love  the  more  true 
To  her  bold  soldier  laddie 
Off  south  in  the  fight, 
Her  sweet  baby's  daddy — 
No  character  paddy — 
With  honor  all  bright. 

How  Frank  will  rejoice, 

Where'er  he  may  roam 
When  Jennie's  sweet  voice 
Or  pencil  or  pen, 

Tells  him  her  story ! 

With  barely  the  mention 
How  these  gentle-men 
With  chastest  attention 
To  modish  convention, 
Have  cherished  his  waif  i 

He  will  give  them  great  glory 
For  preserving  so  safe 
His  dear  jewels  at  home. 

CANTO  III. 

A  very  Ma'in  Modish, 
By  every  assent 
Of  rowdy  or  gent, 
Or  retinue  toadish, 
Was  Jennie — a  belle: 
And  the  virtuous  vent 
Of  her  modest  intent 
Was  all  that  was  meant 
By  her  arrogant  swell. 


94 


THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


With  waist  a  la  sausage 
A  single  strait  passage; 
Tight-bellied,  big-bustled, 
Then  over  all  rustled 
And  swelled  uiore'n  a  barrel, 
[No  common  apparel,] 
The  draping  atdre, 
Such  as  foplings  admire. 
But  alack  for  its  trail — 
The  unfortunate  rag, 
With  its  dabble  and  swag, 
Its  duckings  and  reels, 
As  it  dips  from  each  swale 
The  sullage  and  dag, 
And  sozzles  her  heels  ! 
Pestiferous  slopper, 
A  wasteful  street-mopper, 
Wherever  she  walks; 
Or  sopping  from  puddles 
Their  nauseous  muddles, 
(The  style  a  la  mode, — 

Lord  save  us  the  fidgets!) 
Or  draggling  the  walks 
Along  the  high  road; 
Or  to  flap  like  a  sail, 
Or  toss  like  a  tail, 
In  the  impudent  gale, 
Exposing  before  all 
The  gaudy  Balmoral, 
And  figured  chemise. — 
[Nor  does  it  displease — 
That's  what  they  are  there  for, 
Nor  more  need  she  care  for!] 
Or  'tis  grabbled  and  hustled 
In  crimples  and  crumples 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDT.  95 

And  musses  and  rumples, 
And  lifttd  on  high. 
By  cunningly  muscled 

Solicitous  digits, 
Where  the  climate  is  dry. 
This  changes  the  show, 
Disphying  to  view, 
As  the  kind  breezes  blow, 
A  supplement  scene, 
Instructive  and  new 
To  the  plebeian  "green;" 
With  magical  tact, 
Disclosing  the  fact 
Beyond  cavil  or  doubt, 
That  this  effigy  human 
At  la^t  is  found  out 
To  be  verily  woman  ' — 
Has  something  between 
The  bust  and  the  base, 
That  runs  the  machine, 
And  not  a  mere  bust 
On  an  umbrella  perching, 
Swaying  and  lurching 
In  high  giddy  space. 
Thus  after  long  searching, 

Though  erstwhile  in  vain, 
The  gods  now  more  gracious, 
Have  made  to  appear, 
In  manner  sagacious 
And  method  so  clear — 
Have  settled  for  certain, 
The  doubtful  foundation, 
And  fixed  its  location 
And  proper  relation, 
By  lifting  the  curtain, — 


96  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 

And  nature  is  plain. 

'Twas  no  way  mendacious, 
But  utmost  audacious, 
And  'gainst  (earful  odds, 
For  the  urigallant  gods 
To  stir  the  bad  graces 
Of  dames  in  their  laces 
And  matrons  and  crones, 

And  get  by  the  ears 
With  young  misses'  poutings, 
And  elder  ones'  floutings, 
And  the  lachrymose  tones 
Of  the  scandalized  ones 
In  their  flustering  fears: 
Not  for  an  exposing 
Of  pillars  of  stone, 
Or  of  iron  or  wood, 
But  the  awful  disclosing 
Of  the  hidden  afore, 
Viz:  The  tendon  and  bone 
And  muscle  and  gore, 
Substantial  and  sound 
Set  firm  on  the  ground, 
By  their  Maker  called  "good!" 
S<>  perfect  in  keeping 
And  worthy  of  trust, 
So  fitting  their  place 
In  capering  round 
In  the  play  or  the  race, 
Or  rousing  the  dust 
In  dancing  or  leaping, 
With  ravishing  grace. 
That  stately  and  trig 
Symmetrical  leg — 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDJ.  97 


So  taper  and  jimp, 
Not  a  halt,  nor  a  limp, 
Nor  a  bit  of  a  scrimp 
In  os  or  in  muscle. — 
All  rivalry  mocking 
Is  ag«g  for  a  tussle 
In  the  frolic  or  chase. 

Then  the  shadowy  stocking 
Staid  up  with  the  grasp 
Of  the  dazzling  clasp, 
Where  the  mischievous  sun 
Mirrors  his  face. 
That  beautiful  leg  !— 

What  other  could  pair  it — 
Or  wishing,  would  dare  it — 
Except  'tis  the  other? 
Both  hatched  from  the  egg 
Laid  by  Beauty's  own  mother. 

Jennie's  a  Beauty 
By  common  acclaim, 
Not  heedful  of  duty, 
Nor  troubled  with  aim: 
The  overdight  creature, 
Outvieing  all  nature, 
Decks  every  feature 
Where  aught  can  be  shown, 
With  exquisite  garnish 
Of  pigment  or  varnish 
To  heighten  its  tone. 
In  mutual  bli- 
If  damaging  kisses 
Abrade  it  or  tarnish; 
Or  sweating  should  soil  it, 
Or  rain-spatter  spoil  it, 


98  THE  SUNFL 0  WER. 


With  lively  encore 
She  flies  to  the  toilet 

She  bought  at  the  store: 
Its  colors  and  brushes 
Soon  mend  up  the  blushes 
And  tintinus  and  flushes 

As  fresh  as  before. 

Jennie  is  queen 
Of  the  "Vanity  Fairs:" 
This  cutest  of  strollers, 
Daring  all  weathers; 
With  the  blazes  she  glares, 
Is  swapping  her  dollars 
For  tarletons  and  crapes, 
Ruffles  and  collars. 
Flounces  and  gathers, — 
Such  marvels  of  dresses 
In  purple  and  green; 
With  tattings  and  tapes, 
Wristlets  and  capes, 
Edgings  and  laces; — 
Bundles  and  messes 
To  fill  out  the  graces 
OP  all  the  lean  places; 
And  scollops  and  notches 
In  all  the  odd  shapes 
That  awkwardness  botches 
Or  mimicry  apes. 
A  whimsey  inspires  them, 
Her  folly  requires  them 
And  pertness  desires  them: 
So  flosses  and  cruels 
And  trinkets  and  jewels 
And  broaches  and  rings 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GEUND7.  99 


And  tassels  and  buttons, 
With  all  the  gay  put-ons 
Of  braidings  and  strings 
Of  named  and  unnamable 
Armfulls  of  things, 
With  feathers  and  musses 
That  vanity  fus-ses 
To  finish  the  airs; 
All  these  the  unshamable 
Comedy  wears. 
The  gudgeon  admires  them, 
And  mawkishly  stares! 

Now  comes  the  climax 
Of  everything  bred 
Or  chiseled  or  made 
Or  fashioned  or  grown— 
A  lily  full  blown, 
Scented  with  lilacs 
Or  minks  or  cologne — 
Her  beautiful  head, 

Modeled  by  Powers! 
Perched  on  the  top  of  it, 

Fresh  from  the  shop, 
A  beautiful  trap, 
Not  a  coal  hod  nor  flat, 
Nor  a  bonnet  nor  cap, — 
They  call  it  a  hat, — 
Don't  know  by  the  lop  of  it 
Whether  made  for  a  cat 
Or  a  bison  or  bat 
Or  a  peacock  or  rat, 
Or  a  this  thing  or  that, — 
But  it  answers  for  bonnet, 
If  the  toyyeri/  on  it — 


100 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Its  drapings  and  vails, 

And  sparkles  and  spangles, 
And  baubles  and  morsels, 
And  ribbons  and  torsels, 
And  nettings  and  frettings, 
And  tangles  and  dangles, 
And  frizzings  and  fritters, 
And  streamers  and  trails, 

Like  the  tails  of  some  critters — 

Goes  flippaty  flop! 
Then  on  its  summit 

A  crimson  plume  towers, 
With  a  lop  and  a  bow 
Over  temple  and  brow, 
To  balance  and  plumb  it. 
Such  beautiful  red  top 
On  the  exquisite  head  top, 

Unsettles  the  brain, 
And  turns  topsy  turvy, 
Though  ever  so  nervy, 
As  maggot  or  scurvy, 

The  whole  Jockey  train. 

Now  search  ye  the  mazes 

Of  folly  and  show, 

On  medium  levels, 

In  high  life,  or  low, 

Where  affluence  revels, 
Or  ambition  crazes, 

Or  indigence  begs, 

And  find  if  you  can, 

Kin  to  monkey  or  man, 

Anything  for  a  span 
For  this  Lily  on  legs. 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDY.  101 


"Hail  to  this  Lily — 
Pink  of  perfection, 
Ordained  by  election, 
Moulded  by  Fashion, 
To  lavish  the  cash  on — 

The  cream  of  the  town  !" 
So  the  young  loafers  say, 

Flashy  and  silly, 

As  they  stand  in  the  way, 
Chawing  and  smoking, 
Laughing  and  joking, 

As  she  down  town  is  tripping — 
Apparaled  so  gaily, 
So  airy  and  stately 
As  is  her  wont  lately, 
Some  '-fourteen  times"  daily, 
And  comes  in  their  range. — 
Demented  with  passion, 
Their  senses  bemuddled 
A-swigjiing  and  sipping 
Their  lager  and  wine, 
What  about  it  is  strange 
If  they  call  her  "divine," 
And  vote  her  a  crown, 
In  spite  (if  the  funk 
Of  villainous  varments, 
Exhaled  from  her  garments?— 
(A  stink  as  disgusting, 
As  nastiness  muring, 
Or  polecat  or  skunk.) 
Jennie  is  pretty. 
Winsome  and  witty. 
And  sings  like  bird, — 
A  musical  star 


102 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Of  sonnet  or  ditty — 

So  tell  her  men  me; 
Her  thumbing  and  drumming 
And  thrumming  and  humming 

The  babbling  guitar, 

Sometimes  I've  heard. 

But  calling  her  "witty" — 

0,  merciful  pity, 

Spare  us  that  word  ! 

They  are  lashed  with  her  gird- 

(0,  for  some  soothing  lotion!) 

Sick  with  Love's  potion, 

Blind  with  the  smart 

From  his  treacherous  dart; 

0,  that  vu'nerose  part! 

The  worst  hurt  that  can  be 

In  nature  or  art. 

Is  the  perforate  heart. 
Has  fortune  no  savor 

To  plead  in  their  favor, 

To  wake  an  emotion, 

And  give  them  a  start, 

To  bring  their  devotion  * 

To  some  higher  mart? 

Jennie  is  shy. 
Wary  and  prudish, 
Cool,  even  rudish, 

Artful  and  sly, — 
Watchful  and  careful 

In  parlor  or  hall. 

At  concert  or  ball; 

Seemingly  prayerful 

When  others  are  by; 
This  covers  appearance 


EPIC  OF  MADAM  GRUNDT.  103 


And  saves  reputation 

From  contamination 
And  bars  interference 

Of  the  gossiping  fry. 
But  meet  her  sub  rosa 

In  the  masonic  dark 

Only  lit  by  her  spark, 
And  none  to  expose  her; 

Or  with  damask  to  screen  her, 
Or  a  panel  between  her 

And  where  the  birds  fly, 
And  this  wary  demeanor, 
Say  those  who  have  seen  her, 
'•Ts  all  in  your  eye." 

There  meekly  resigning 

To  sociable  ways. 

And  fondly  inclining 

To  rapturous  twining 

In  frolicsome  plays; 

Her  liitle  love  graces 

And  thrilling  embraces 

And  magnetic  kisses 

With  all  the  sweet  blisses, 

So  come  in  their  places, 

Affirming  her  yeses 
To  all  you  desire, 

That  you  catch  the  infection, 

And  spite  of  reflection, 

Or  fear  of  detect  inn 

(A  fii  for  protection, 

Or  sage  circumspection 

In  proper  selection  !) 

You  dare  all  objection, 

And  bless  this  collection 


104  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Of  matchless  perfection 
Of  every  complection 
And  rush  in  the  fire. 

MORAL. 

As  silly  insects  of  a  summer  night 

Bedazzled,  flutter  round  the  taper  fire, 
Witless  of  danger  in  the  subtle  light, 

J)art  in  and  crisp  a  moment  and  expire : 
Just  so  the  far  more  siliy  human  kind, 

Mistaking  Pleasure's  wanton  shining  game 
For  Happiness,  rush  hi  edless  in  and  blind, 

To  scorch  and  suffer  in  her  treacherous  flame. 

October,  1866. 


EVENING  HYMN. 


Sleep! — balmy  Sleep! — come  close  my  eyes, 
Now  evening  shadows  vail  the  skies; 
Tired  nature  longs  the  d;iy  to  close, 
And  find  in  thee  her  sweet  repose. 
Thy  bedtime  bells  unite  their  chime 
Of  jaded  labor's  nodding  time; 
Thy  drowsy  hands  their  cradles  rock, 
From  this  glad  moment,  '-nine  o'clock." 

Let  me  on  thy  dear  lap  recline, 
There  all  my  weariness  resign, — 
Drink  deep  the  nectar  streams  that  gush 
'Twixt  now  and  morning's  welcome  blush; 


EVENING  HYMN.  105 


Let  thy  sweet  lips  my  eyelids  kiss, 
And  seal  them  in  undreaming  bliss: 
Kind  stop  of  nature's  conscious  watch, 
That  steps  life's  tallies,  notch  by  notch. 

Let  spirit  kindred  make  my  bed, 
And  smooth  the  pillow  for  my  head, 
My  heart  its  griefs  and  anguish  flies 
In  their  magnetic  lullabies; 
They  lull  my  jaded  brain  to  peace, 
The  achings  of  my  bosom  cease; 
My  flesh,  my  senses,  nerves  and  limbs, 
All  listen  to  their  soothing  hymns. 

Thus  may  T  meet  life's  closing  eve 
Which  ushers  in  the  grand  reprieve, 
When  that  immortal  day  shall  break, 
And  all  refreshed,  renewed  I  wake. 
No  more  of  toil,  no  more  of  pain, 
Of  earthly  passion,  earthly  pnin; 
No  treachery  nor  false  display 
All  round,  that  chafed  my  mortal  way. 

But  angel  kin  enrobed  in  light,] 
To  genial  banquets  sweet  invite, 
And  calm  and  sunshine,  peace  and  joy 
My  franchise*]  senses  all  employ: 
There  heart  to  heart  its  matins  sings, 
As  moments  fly  on  ether  wings, 
While  truth  and  wisdom,  life  and  love, 
Their  ever  during  cycles  move. 

December  5th,  1866. 


106 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  MAN  NEVER  GROWS  OLD. 


As  the  elements  play 
Beneath  the  broad  sky, 

In  produce  and  decay 
Of  all  that  can  die; 

As  the  glory  of  morning 
Is  buried  in  ni^ht, 

And  earth's  cunning  labor 
In  mildew  and  blight — 

So  recrement  drosses 

Be-mantle  the  gold — 

The  Spirit  of  Man 

That  never  grows  old. 

So  the  plant  and  the  vine, 
And  the  berry  and  grain, 

And  clover  and  fruit 
Of  the  garden  and  plain, 

Of  valley  and  mountain, 
Of  forest  and  glade, 

A  season  they  flourish, 
Then  rotting  are  laid, — 

While  ages  and  cycles 

Primeval  unrolled, 

Ere  the  Spirit  of  Man 

That  never  grows  old. 

The  ant  and  the  bee, 
The  spider,  the  leech, 

The  mole  in  the  burrow, 
The  clam  on  the  beach, 

The  brute  of  the  prairie, 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  MAN. 


107 


The  bird  of  the  sky, 
Sport  a  brief  moment, 

Then  sicken  and  die: 
Nature  whiles  busy 
Exalting  her  mold 
Towards  the  Spirit  of  Man 
That  never  grows  old. 

Man  only  a  germ 
Is  flung  on  life  s  stage, 

Labors  through  growth, 
And  ripeness  and  -age, 

Suffers  and  totters 
Adown  the  bleak  hill, 

So  closes  the  drama 
Of  life's  living  chill. 

From  out  this  finale 

Repu'sive  and  cold, 

Springs  the  Spirit  of  Man 

That  nevers  grows  old. 

Fatigued  are  the  hands 
In  the  warfare  of  lite, 

And  weary  the  heart 
In  the  militant  strife; 

Faith,  feeble  with  watching, 
Hope,  faint  with  delay, 

In  unison  sighing 
Their  ardors  away. 

Some  vestige  immortal 

These  ruins  unfold 

Of  the  Spirit  of  Man 

That  never  grows  old. 

The  toiiiiue  becomes  silent 
The  vision  grows  dim, 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


The  ear  loses  hearing, 
The  muscles  their  vim, 

The  nerves  forget  feeling, 
The  passions  their  sway, 

And  the  senses  are  stealing 
In  Lethe  away. 

Thus  is  the  undying 

In  piecemeal  outrolled, 

Of  the  Spirit  of  Man 

That  never  grows  old. 

There's  a  home  for  this  Spirit 
In  gardens  of  bliss — 

Not  frosted  by  Winter 
Nor  dying,  as  this — 

With  fountains  Elysian 
In  musical  chiuie, 

And  fruits  all  aglow 
Of  the  supernal  clime; 

Celestial  their  relish, 
Of  richness  untold, 

The  Spirit  regaling 

Shall  never  grow  old. 

March  28th,  1867. 


OUR  CHRISTMAS  DINNER. 


Not  a  squall  wall  was  heard  from  a  gobbler's  throat, 

Nor  a  goose's  hideous  bumming, 
Nor  martyred  duck  quacked  funeral  note 

To  herald  the  Christmas  coming. 


OUR  CHRISTMAS  DINNER.  109 


But  we  killed  the  "Old  Rooster,"  the  champion  cock, 

That  Hectored  the  yard  so  proudly — 
His  magistral  head  we  brought  to  the  block, 

Which  clamored  at  morn  so  loudly. 

On  his  robe  was  the  sheen  of  brilliants  aglow, 
As  the  morning  sun  gleamed  o'er  his  back; 

And  shrill  as  the  steam-whistle  rang  out  his  crow, 
As  he  flapped  on  the  peak  of  the  stack. 

TiU'frosted  he  wore  a  magnificent  crest, 

On  a  caput  he  reconed  the  biggest; 
No  lady  becottoned  could  show  such  a  breast, 

Though  feathered  and  furred  off  the  triggest. 

Snow-white  were  his  pinions  just  tipped  with  black, 

And  white  was  the  surplice  he  wore; 
His  tail  so  high  arching  and  sweeping  his  track: 

Such  a  tail  never  worn  before, 

Except  by  fine  ladies  to  set  off  a  grace, 

Or  hide  what  the  gaffs  would  throw  chaff  at, 

These  stick  the  gay  plume  over  temple  or  face, 
For  the  roosters  themselves  to  laugh  at! 

He  was  stately,  and  rallied  and  ruled  like  a  lord, 

No  rival  his  manor  dividing, 
The  cockerels  scud  at  his  frown  or  his  nod; 

The  sun  even  rose  at  his  bidding! 

If  saw  he  his  profile  perched  on  the  barns, 

Govern  the  course  of  the  wind, 
'Twas  only  conceit  of  the  bulk  of  his  harns, 

So  common  with  two  legged  kind. 


1 10  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Our  hero  disdained  all  political  place 

Of  congress  or  cabinet  fugle, 
Deserving  no  share  in  log-rolling  disgrace; 

Nor  gave  he  false  note  to  his  bugle. 

But  true  as  the  magnet,  he  played  well  his  part 
In  the  drama  of  nature's  high  missions, 

Till  the  raiders  of  Christmas  struck  deep  to  his  heart, 
To  pamper  their  Cretin  conditions. 

A  pity  it  seems  such  imperial  head 

Should  fall  by  a  stroke  a  la  French''- 
But  Christmas  is  coming  and  maughs  must  beefed, 

Though  necks  meet  the  cleaver  or  wrench ! 

When  Fashion  indorses,  nobody  refrains 

This  carnival  Christian  holiday; — 
The  creatures — what  matter  their  joys  or  their  pains, 

If  we  can  enjoy  a  fine  jolly  day  ! 

The  good  wife  lays  hold  of  the  truncated  hulk 

And  begins  a  post  mortem  inspection 
Of  plucking'  and  scraping  and  singeing  in  bulk, 

And  ending  in  butcher's  dissection. 

The  cuts  in  the  pot  are  tastily  laid 

And  covered  with  dumplings  all  over, 
So  a  pie  is  compounded  and  dinner  is  made 

Fit  to  set  to  a  queen  or  a  lover. 

The  pastry  so  huffy  the  kettle  does  fill 5 

The  medley  all  flavored  so  clever, 
Is  more  than  a  match  for  Delmonico's  skill — ' 

Hail,  "Old-fashioned pot-pie,"  forever! 


0  UR  CHRISTMAS  DINNER.  1 1 1 


I    This  served  upon  trenchers,  or  earthen  at  best, 

Where  love  itself  whistles  and  sings, 
And  the  glow  of  affection  warms  every  breast, 
Is  better  than  viands  of  kings. 

(Little  Freddie  and  Carrie  so  gleeful  all  day, 

Incessantly  laughing  and  talking. 
Heaping  and  spreading  in  showy  array 

What  '-Santa"  had  put  in  each  stocking, 

Now  hush  for  a  time  or  whisper  their  tone, 

As  "Pa"  in  the  soup  terreen  fishes 
To  bring  from  the  deep,  the  old  oracle  bone, 

That  time-honored  umpire  of  wishes. 

"Please  give  me  the  wish  bone  ?"  Fred  audibly  breathed 
"No — dive  me  the  with  bone?"  in  whisper 

Plead  Carrie:  but  the  charm  was  bequeathed 
Both  to  Fred  and  the  dimple-cheeked  lisper. 

Soon  wishes  were  framed  with  a  prayer  to  the  fates, 
How  the  dry  bone  at  e'en  should  declare  them. — 
She  a  hat — and  a  play-time  to  wear  them). 

By  some  hocus,  next  morn  both  had  little  skates — 

Thus  we  fed  on  his  carcase  so  juicy  and  sweet, 

So  luscious  in  muscle  and  fat, 
Till  ended  in  surfeit  the  cannibal  feast, 

And  the  fragment  we  flung  to  the  cat. 

Such  is  Fame — a  summit  the  Hero  attains — 

A  name  emblazoned  in  story! 
We  wrapped  our  warm  bosoms  about  his  remains, 

"And  left  him  alone — with  his  glory." 

1867. 


112  THE  SUNFLOWER. 


A  THOUGHT. 


"Why  should  a  living  man  complain?" 
Complaining  is  but  weakness  shown; 

No  profit  does  repining  gain : 

Why  murmur  at  each  transient  pain, 
And  mar  each  moment  with  a  groan? 

What  though  the  joys  of  earth  are  flown, 
And  laughing  Hope  no  more  beguile? 
Better  to  court  a  cheerful  tone, 
Cherish  the  blessings  round  thee  strown, 

And  woo  the  lips  their  pleasant  smile. 


GUARDIANS. 


Spirit  Kindred  watching  near  me 

Night  and  day, 
With  their  kindly  whispers  cheer  me 

On  my  way : 
'Tis  the  Spirit  sweet  communion, — 

Blessed  boon ! 
Earnest  of  the  dear  reunion 

Coming  soon ; 

Reunion  in  those  happier  spheres 
Beyond  the  storms  of  changing  years. 

Whispers  as  of  Eden  given, 
Greet  mine  ear, 


GUARDIANS.  113 


As  if  nearer  bringing  Heaven, 

Still  more  near; — 
Calling  upward,  sweetly  calling, 

To  the  sky, 
Wait  my  weary  soul  to  welcome 

By  and  by; — 

(0,  how  my  longing  soul  will  spring 
To  rise  and  join  them  on  the  wing!) 

Tell,  my  prison  chains  are  breaking, 

One  by  one, 
And  my  Bastile  walls  their  quaking 

Have  begun ; 
Tell  me  that  each  pang  of  sorrow 

Parts  one  string 
Staying  from  the  brighter  morrow 

Opening, 

When  friend  with  friend  and  heart  to  heart 
Unite  again  no  more  to  part. 

Thus  serene,  awake  or  sleeping 

Am  I  blest, 
Spirit  kin  their  vigils  keeping, 

Aud  I  rest, 
Patient  in  the  petty  trials 

Which  assail. 
Bravely  meeting  self-denials, 

To  prevail 

And  rise  these  jarring  scenes  above 
To  that  blest  paradise  of  love. 

Thus  I  wait  a  little  longer 

Here  below; 
Faith  and  hope  are  growing  stronger, 

As  I  go; 


114  THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Higher  Heaven  still  keeps  rising, 

As  I  win 
Purer  joys,  and  love  and  goodness 

Conquer  sin. 

'Tis  endless  progress  themes  my  lays 
And  tunes  my  heart  in  grateful  praise. 

So  each  triumph  in  the  struggle 

Wears  its  palm; 
Wounds  all  cured  by  this  spirit 

Gilead  balm; 
Till  adieu  to  pain  and  sadness, 

Toil  and  care — 
All  exchanged  for  rest  and  gladness, 

Over  there, 

Upon  that  blooming  thither  shore, 
Where  death  and  winter  blight  no  more. 

May  3rd,  1868. 


COUPLET. 


Blind  man  courts  pleasure  in  her  wanton  shapes, 
The  rankling  thorn  remains — the  rose  escapes. 


M7  MOUNTAIN  HOME.  115 


MY  MOUNTAIN  HOME. 


How  dear  to  me  my  mountain  home — 
Thy  woodland  braes  and  rippling  rills! 
'Twas  there  my  infant  feet  did  roam 
Along  thy  vales  and  o'er  thy  hills; 
Thy  fountains  clear  and  sunny  glades: 
Thy  teeming  fields  and  orchards  gay, 
And  grape-embowered  arbor  shades 
"Where  careless  childhood  loved  to  stray. 

CHORUS: 

Come  back  to  me,  my  mountain  home! 
Dear  scenes  where  memory  loves  to  run; 
Earth,  air  and  sky  seemed  all  abloom 
As  life  and  I  went  whistling  on. 

I  love  thy  fields  and  meadows  green 
That  shimmered  in  the  warming  ray; 
Thy  pools  and  streams  that  danced  between, 
When  Summer  donned  her  plumage  gay. 
Thy  lilies  wore  so  white  a  bloom, 
Thy  roses  such  refulgent  hue ; 
Thy  lilacs  breathing  such  perfume 
The  gales  were  fragrant  with  its  dew. 

How  bright  thy  Winter  stars  did  glow, 

Out-peering  through  the  crispy  sky, 

And  laughed,  as  through  the  shivering  snow 

Our  coasting  sleds  went  whirling  by. 

Thy  wakeful  moon  benignly  shone, 

As  if  to  bless  our  evening  roof — 


116 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


Our  altar  dear,  and  loved  hearth  stone — 
Kind  Heaven's  gift,  our  rich  behoof. 

My  youthful  heart  was  guileless  then, 
All  things  around  me  showed  so  fair, 
Unschooled  in  wiles  and  wrongs  of  men, 
My  hours  winged  lightly,  free  of  care. 
The  world  seemed  an  unceasing  song, 
Enchanting  to  my  childhood  mind; 
All  things  appeared  a  chiming  throng, 
And  birds  and  T  the  chorus  joined. 


May  7th,  1868. 


A  RIDDLE. 


Here  and  there  we  go, 

Yet  do  not  leave  our  place; 
In  Winter's  drifting  snow, 

Or  Summer's  fervent  chase, 
We  toil  away,  or  drove  or  led, 
Or  sentry  keep  around  our  bed. 

We  jockey  at  the  fair; 

We  play  upon  the  stage; 
We  rive  the  dusty  air 

Amid  the  race's  rage. 
So  hie  we  through  the  stormy  years, 
Disdainful  both  of  smiles  and  tears. 

In  summersaults  we  plunge, 
Yet  ever  stand  aright; 


CHEWING  GUM.  117 


Now  making  luckless  lunge, 

Now  flying  like  a  kite; 
Thus  '-bobbing  round,"  or  drunk  or  fired, 
Or  double  file,  bemoiled  and  tired 

Fight  we  the  war  of  life, 
Its  battles  and  alarms; 
Treading  through  each  strife, 

Bearing  still  our  arms. 
Now  what  are  we — whence  we  came — 
Our  riddle  tell,  and  what  our  name? 


CHEWING  GUM. 

[Scene,  The  Ghurcli;  Actress,  Miss  Araminta.] 


Notice  you  that  queenly  maiden — 

Stately  come 
Down  the  aisle  with  Jasper  Hayden,- 

Chewing  gum? 

She's  the  Belle,  a  model  lady; 
Half  the  beaux  to  die  are  ready 
For  that  jaw  that  wags  so  steady, 

Chewing  gum! 

In  the  pew,  together  cosy 

With  her  chum, 

Turgid  cheek  all  fresh  and  rosy, 
Chewing  gum. 

How  her  pretty  chin  does  teeter! 


118  THE  SUNFLOWER. 

I 


Never  smiled  an  angel  sweeter: 
Sure  an  angel  could  not  beat  her 
Chewing  gum ! 

Her  two  lips  with  cherry  vieing, 

Or  a  plum, 
Half  a  mind  to  hide  from  spying 

Chewing  gum, 

Seem  just  on  the  eve  of  parting 
For  some  eloquence  out-darting, 
But  alack — they're  only  starting 

Chewing  gum ! 

Out  her  dewy  mouth  she  takes  it: 

"Precious  crum !" 
In  a  fancy  bolus  makes  it 

With  her  thumb, — 
See  her  balance  it  on  finger, 
And  in  admiration  linger: 
"Luscious  lozenge  'tis,  by  gingo — 
Chewing  gum!" 

On  the  street  or  common  walking, 

Or  the  slum ; 
At  the  ball  or  levee  talking, 

Chewing  gum 

Fits  the  staid  and  the  erratic, 
Fits  the  basement,  shed  and  attic, 
And  the  courts  aristocratic, — 

Dregs  and  scum. 

On  all  out-occasions  chewing, 

Or  at  home, 
Ceaseless,  heedless,  paltry  chewing, 

Chewing  gum! 


MONEY.  119 


Mimic  younglings  ready  nab  it, 
Chewing  like  young  goat  or  rabbit, 
Soon  grow  finished  in  the  habit, 
Chewing  gum. 


MORAL : 


As  tiny  insect  in  the  light  which  shines 

And  poisons  flower  and  fruit  with  subtle  sting; 

"As  little  foxes  spoil  the  tender  vines," 
So  little  habits  death  and  ruin  bring. 


January  10th,  1869. 


MONEY. 


Money  is  king! — 

Ha!  ha!  ha! 
The  world  is  its  ring. 
In  worshiping  tone, 
All  states  and  all  nations, 
All  grades  and  all  stations, 
Bow  down  to  its  throne; 
Their  lords  and  their  commons, 
Their  senates  and  halls, 
When  money  is  waiting, 
Cut  short  their  debating 
To  list  to  its  summons 
And  answer  its  calls. 

Money  is  gracious ! — 
Haw!  haw!  haw! 


1 20  TEE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


Gives  note  and  hooraw 

To  its  lucky  possessor, 

Be  he  priest  or  professor, 

Or  rowdy  or  clown ; 

Or  the  idling  scorners 

That  hang  on  the  corners 

Or  loaf  about  town. 

The  grave  parson  vows  to  it 

With  desire  rapacious, 

In  cant  quite  religious 

And  fervor  prodigious, 

[As  custom  does  show;] 

And,  as  to  Pope,  bows  to  it, — 

When  he  cravens  before  him, 

To  praise  and  adore  him 

And  ukiss  his  big  toe." 

Money's  a  charm — 

Ho!  ho!  ho! 
More  fain  than  a  farm 
To  aid  the  curmudgeons 
And  boors  and  gudgeons 

To  strut  up  and  crow! — 
Just  the  thing  for  the  flunkies 

To  hold  in  their  paw; 
Gives  toddies  to  monkies, 
And  lagers  to  donkeys 

To  wash  down  their  straw. 
The  golden  heart  bumps 
Inside  of  the  breast 
Of  both  sharpers  and  gumps, 
Forbidding  their  rest 
In  the  battle  and  chase 
After  profit  and  place 
In  the  farcical  test: 


MONEY.  121 


All  of  them  crave  it, 
Few  only  can  save  it, 
Discount  and  shave  it 
With  generous  profit 
Of  cent  per  cent  off  it, 
As  commerce  defines; 
[Here  conscience  declines 
Her  saucy  behest,] 
And  shrewdness  indorses; 
It  buys  them  fast  horses, 
Frolicksome,  frisky, 
Women  and  wine, 
Tobacco  and  whisky, 
And  raises  the  shine 
On  their  leather  so  fine. 


How  I  love  money ! — 

He!  he!  he!— 
"Tis  better  than  honey 

You  ready  can  see; 
It  deals  me  the  trumps, 
And  with  them  the  game 

Which  wins  me  the  pile 
Of  nuggets  and  lumps, 
And  with  them  the  fame 
Of  a  "lucky  dog's"  name: 
This  hideth  all  shame 
Of  whatever  blame, 
'Neath  the  roseate  flame 
Of  mammon's  sweet  smile. 

Early  or  late, 

Wherever  I  range, 
Money  's  my  passport, 
I've  many  a  glass  for  't, 


122 


THE  SUNFL  0  WER. 


And  many  a  lass  for  't, 
Jane,  Sally  and  Kate; 
'Mong  toadies  and  shoddies 
And  nabobs  and  noddies — 
In  popular  rabble. — 
Or  civilized  bodies 
Of  bulls  and  of  bears 
That  higgle  and  haffle 
Tn  picayune  raffle, — 
Or  stock-jobber  gabble 
Over  competing  shares, 

Where  millions  exchange. 
Now  you  see  why  T  covet 
And  praise  it  and  love  it, 
There  's  nothing  above  it, 
Nor  near  it,  for  fame 
To  notice  and  name. 

Money  is  ma^ic, 
And  logic,  and  law, — 
Comico — tragic, — 
Rules  counselors,  judges, 
Philosophers,  kings; 
It  wheedles  and  nudges 
And  dazzles  and  brings 
Devoted  all  classes, 
Lodges  and  masses, 
Of  schemers  and  rings, 

To  satiate  its  maw. 


May  29th,  1869. 


RICH.  123 


RICH. 


They  say  he  is  "Rich  !"— 

A  wonderful  word, 

So  often  repeated 

Like  song  of  a  bird. 

But  of  its  import — what  meaneth  its  sgund, 
As  it  rings  through  the  welkin  and  echoes  around? 
Ah!  yes — what  are  riches f     and  what  are  they  for? 
Are  they  comfort  and  plenty,  or  turmoil  and  war? 

These  are  his  riches: 

Heaps  labored  and  vast 

From  dunghills  and  ditches 

Of  a  wasted  life  past; 

He's  scraped  them  together  of  muck  and  of  mold, 
A  tomb  for  his  carcase  now  wasted  and  old; 
But  "rich"  they  now  call  him,  with  millions  and  muff, 
This  sates  his  ambition — is  glory  enough ! 

He  swore  to  be  rich 

When  he  started  in  life : 

So  starving  his  children 

And  crushing  his  wife; 
Corrupting  his  morals,  debasing  his  mind 
O'erreaching,  deceiving  and  robbing  his  kind 
By  shaving  and  shoddy,  extortion  and  fraud 
He  reckons  his  millions,  and  wretches  applaud. 

Yes :  rich  without  morals, 
Or  manhood,  or  mind, 


124  THE  SUNFLOWER. 

Or  manners,  or  taste, 

Or  a  spirit  refined; 
Rich  without  wisdom,  modesty,  love, 
Gentleness,  purity,  born  from  above; 
Rich  in  the  trover  of  illgotten  pelf, 
But  a  pauper  per  se  when  he  reckons  himself. 

May  80th,  1869. 


THE  DYING  BODY'S  ADIEU* 

TO    ITS    DEPARTING    SPIRIT. 


Spirit!  our  warfare  is  o'er, 
Its  conflicts  are  ended  at  last; 

Turmoils  and  marches  fatigue  us  no  more, 
Now  the  last  tottering  milestone  is  pass'd. 

Thou  art  off  to  the  beautiful  shore, 

(Poor  me  to  the  coffin  they  cast,) 

Where  thy  longings  their  freedom  will  see, 

To  rest  or  regale  as  they  please, 

In  culling  the  fruit  of  each  life-giving  tree, 
Or  sniffing  the  balm  of  the  breeze; 

Freedom  from  prison  and  me, 

As  nature  maternal  decrees. 

Spirit!  thy  troubles  are  sped, — 
The  pangs  that  thy  senses  have  stung, 

The  tears  as  the  rain,  that  thy  anguish  has  shed, 
And  the  throes  that  thy  bosom  have  wrung, 
All  garnered  with  me  with  the  dead, 
With  the  mantle  of  Lethe  o'er-flung. 


THE  D  TING  B  OD  Y'S  ADIEU.  125 


No  anger  will  more  knit  thy  brow, 

Commotion  nor  redden  thy  cheek, 

No  more  cheat  thine  ear  will  the  treacherous  vow, 

When  the  heart  a  friend-treasure  would  seek; 

Affections  are  purified  now, 

And  thy  tongue  the  glad  numbers  will  speak. 

Spirit!     'Twas  animate  clay — 
Moiling  its  way  through  earth's  gloom, 

Urged  by  thy  ardors  impatient  of  stay — 
'Tis  worn  out  a- working  its  doom: 

It  bids  thee  now  farewell  for  aye, 

And  lies  down  to  rest  in  its  tomb. 
Dear  Spirit — our  warfare  is  o'er, 

Its  conflicts  are  ended  at  last; 

Perils  and  marches  fatigue  us  no  more, 
For  the  last  tottering  milestone  is  passed. 
Thou  art  flown  to  that  bright  Summer  shore, 

And  left  me  as  reptiles'  repast. 

January  29th,  1871. 

NOTK. — This  poem  is  the  last  conceit  of  the  writer's  inspirations 
in  a  rhyming  way,  more  than  six  years  agone,  therefore  he  deems  it  a 
most  appropriate  closing. 


126  THE  SUNFL  0  WEE. 


NOTE  1.— In  Wassuc  Parish,  town  of  Glastenbury,  Hartford  Coun 
ty,  Connecticut,  some  ten  miles  south-east  of  Hartford  City;  on  north 
side  of  highway,  some  half  mile  west  of  the  Old  Red  Church  on  Old 
Street  running  north  and  south,  (said  church  now  is  moved  northward 
into  another  neighborhood),  and  on  a  gentle  slope  eastward  towards 
"Great  Brook,"  and  south  of  "Roaring  Brook."  In  the  center  of  the 
house  stood  an  enormous  irregular  pyramid  of  rough  stones,  alias  a 
chimney,  nondescript  in  form,  with  a  system  of  fire-places  suited  to 
the  circumjacent  rooms.  In  the  kitchen  was  a  culinary  fixture, 
called  "oven,"  whence  came  forth  at  breakfast  the  aromatic  browu 
breads  kept  steaming  hot  over  night;  the  luscious  baked  apples  to 
zest  the  bread-and-milk  supper;  as  also  the  more  artistic  pastries — 
mince  and  other  pies,  together  with  the  ever-expected  "turnover"  for 
each  juvenile— to  crown  Thanksgiving  and  the  Holidays,  and  dot  an 
occasional  prudent  piece  along  the  circle  of  the  year. 

Under  the  oven  was  the  "stockhold,"  to  kennel  the  flat-irons  and 
the  inanimate  "goose." 

In  the  base  of  the  chimney  in  the  cellar,  was  the  "ash-hold,"  a 
cranny  sacred  to  the  domestic  "soap-boiler:"  it  received  through  an 
opening  in  the  fire-place  back  (a  most  convenient  device)  and  down  a 
passage  or  descending  Hue,  the  daily  accumulation  of  ashee.  These 
all,  with  the  motley  addend  of  nooks,  recesses,  and  ledges  for  shelves, 
cupboards  and  cases,  and  so  on,  made  the  great  "centerstauce"  of  a 
yankee  rural  mansion,  necessary  and  fashionable  in  the  P.  M.  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  the  morning  of  the  nineteenth.  Yet  the 
quiet  felicities  of  Home  delighted  to  hover  and  nestle  around  and  in 
these  rustic  domiciles. 

NOTE  2. — The  last  of  this  "infernal  machine,"  was  among  my 
earliest  remembrances :  'twas  put  up  to  furnish  the  embargoed  people 
with  cider-brandy  during  the  war  of  1813-15 


NOTES.  127 


NOTK  3.— By  we.-t  side  of  L'arden  wall,  six  or  eiirht  rods  west  of  the 
house,  barn  in  rear  and  the  smithy  in  front  by  the  highway. 

Fur  those  readers  who  are  not  acquainted  with  these  rustic  con 
trivances  of  "ye  olden  times."  a  de.-cription  of  one  seems  proper. 
They  are  now  mostly  superseded  by  more  artistic  di". 

The  "troii:_'h"  is  annular,  of  some  twelve  to  fifteen  feet  diameter, 
with  a  depth  and  width  of  some  ten  in  lies;  inner  wall  vertical,  and 
the  outer  wall  battered  or  beveled  outward  to  conform  to  the  shape  of 
the  wheel.  A  pivot  post  is  set  in  center  of  the  trough  circle. 

The  wheel  is  some  six  feet  diameter,  made  solid  of  timbe:  - 
eight  inches  on  tread,  inner  face  flat,  outer  face  convex  or  conical,  and 
treads  in  the  trough,  and  is  held  in  position  by  the  arm  or  shaft  (the 
one  I  rode  on  i  which  i-  hum:  to  the  "pivot  post,"  and  extends  through 
the  wheel  and  protrudes  far  enough  beyond  it,  "to  hitch  'Old  Dobin' 
to."  who  traveled  on  his  own  circuit. 

Old  cider-makers,  most  of  whom  were  also  cider-topers  and  hence 
conuois-euis  in  their  line,  always  endorsed  the1  "wheel  mill,"  for  "it 
ma.-hes  the  seed.-  as  no  other  mill  does."  They  used  to  say  that  there 
"wa-  almost  as  much  cider  virtue  in  the  seeds  as  in  all  the  rest  of  the 
apple." 

NOTK  4.— This  tiny  tube,  this  frail,  yet  invaluable  equipment  of 
every  boy  at  a  cider  mill,  aided  by  vacuum  producing  power,  com 
pletes  an  impromptu  syphon,  and  is.  even  without  "your  lieve.  Sir?" 
poked 'Into  every  pool  and  rill  and  current  drippini:  from  the  i 
andf thrust  into  the  liuiiir  and  vent  of  every  replenished  cask  on  the 
prenii.-es.  and  with  as  tirele--  ardor  as  ever  bee  or  humbird  flitted 
from  flower  to  flower  siarnerini:  their  delectable  sweets. 

NOTE  5.— Stairs  led  from  kitchen.  The  second  step  was  a  broad 
one,  door  upon  it  opening  into  "stair  way."  Stair.-  turned  at  riirht 
angle  to  the  riiiht  to  escape  the  roof  (only  a  "story  and  a  half.")  The 
tir.-t  step  was  in  the  kitchen,  and  on  this  I  sat  as  Prince  exercising 
the  Yankee  spirit  and  practice :  while  on  broad  step,  behind  the  door> 
ored  my  whittlinj:  stock.  I  availed  myself  of  " 'Ally's'  knife  to 
make  peL's."  i  my  oldest  brother's  name  is  Alpheus)  and  my  thumb 
Mill  bears  the  mark  of  this  juvenile  industry. 

Nnii:  ti.  In  those  days  it  was  both  customary  and  respectable  for 
women— mothers  and  daughter-  to  r-pin  wool  and  flax  and. weave 
them.  too.  I!ut  then,  that  was  before  i-hoddy  was  fa:-hionahle. 

NOTE  7.—  One  incident  connected  therewith  is  remembered:  One 
of  the  cows  named  "Milly."  was  a  favorite.  My  si-ter.  I'rsula,  used 
to  milk  her.  In  the  cow  yard  lay  a  lari_'e  boulder,  one  corner  of  which 


THE  SUNFLOWER. 


was  just  low  enough  for  a  convenient  milking  stool.  Ursula,  pail  in 
hand,  would  scat  herself  upon  this  rock,  and  Milly  would  generally 
come  unbidden,  but  if  not,  a  word  would  bring  her  to.  But  she  some 
times  failed  to  strike  the  exact  position  the  first  time— a  trifle  too  far 
ahead,  or  too  near  or  too  distant — in  which  case  Ursula  had  but  to 
make  her  a  gentle  slap,  and  say:  "Go  off  Milly,  and  come  round 
better!"  True  to  the  hint,  she  would  make  her  little  circuit  and  gen 
erally  come  riirht :  though  I've  sometimes  seen  her  make  her  circuit 
under  orders  two  or  three  times  before  the  exact  position  was  at 
tained;  and  she  always  came  round  with  the  r-ame  meek  and  patient 
air. 

Ah,  Milly— such  meekness,  patience  and  fidelity  are  .seldom  met 
with  in  thy  sex  now-a-days  I 

NOTE  8. — My  unforgiving  h'Lis  have  even  now,  not  quite  forgotten 
the  smart  of  the  "birch"  administered  to  them  because  they  deviated 
from  the  precise  latitude  and  longitude,  horizontal  and  perpendicular, 
prescribed:  because  they  were  unable,  through  the  tardy  hours,  to 
endure  with  statue  quiet,  the  merciless  torture  of  those  four.  live,  and 
six-legged  stools — stools  ten  to  fifteen  feet  loiiir.  made  of  oak  or  chest 
nut  slabs,  with  sticks  stuck  in  auger-holes  for  le'_rs.  and  all  in  their 
native  tinish  of  surface,  color  and  <rrain.  These  juvenile,  racks — by 
sublime  effrontery  called  seats-  -were  considered  by  the  country  school 
managers  as  suitable  outfit*,  tint  1  he  urchins  who  sat  on  them  became 
afflicted  with  "unsuitable  in-lit-." 

XOTK  (i. --Stone  fences:  hardly  any  others  on  the  farm.  Field* 
small,  yet  plenty  of  stock  for  more  fence*  "lying  around  loose"  on  the 
land  where  these  were  gathered. 

XOTK  10.-  Thus  contradistinguished  from  my  father's,  or  the  new 
one. 

NOTK  11. —This  old  cellar,  the  last  relic  of  my  trrandsire's  domicile, 
was  only  a  few  rods  west  of  my  father's,  a  little  further  back  nearer 
the  -spring:"  as  pioneers  in  all  countries  plant  tliemsehv- 
instinct,  as  convenient  as  possible  to  a  supply  of  that  indispensable 
element,  water.  And  though  he  had  to  battle  with  unfriendly  climate, 
ruined  soil  and  primeval  forest,  they  had  plenty  of  pure  water.  He 
died  in  1810. 

NOTK  li. -The  Larch,  or  "Hackmatack,"  his  only  ornamental 
tree,  stood  nearly  in  front  of  house. 

NOTE  13.— About  the  20th  of  October,  1817,  with  an  outfit  of  a  yoke 
of  oxen  and  a  cart  (supplemented  with  the  "old  gray  mare"  and  a  one 
horse  wagon)  containing  the  "housen  stuff'1  of  a  caravan  of  the  five 


NOTES.  129 


pilgrims,  and  after  two  weeks  of  toilsome  journeying  we  arrived  at  a 
little  log  hut — which  cattle  had  appropriated  for  a  stable — in  the 
woods,  (Hollistcrville  grew  there  afterwards),  in  Salem  township, 
Wayne  county,  Pennsylvania,  on  the  ninth  day  of  the  November  fol 
lowing.  That  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  journey,  at  that  time  and 
the  circumstances  and  conditions  appertaining,  was  a  greater  under 
taking  than  is  an  ••around  the  world"  at  the  present  day. 

NOTE  14.— We  left  Pennsylvania,  (Hollisterville).  May  10th,  1838, 
"overland"  with  horse  teams,  and  arrived  here  in  Little  Eock  township, 
Kendall  (then  Kane)  county.  Illinois,  the  rflith  of  the  following  June. 

Piano  was  planted  here  in  IS.'-,'. 

NOTI-:  ON  I:I.K<;V  ON  DKATII  OF  CHARLES 

MADISON   (  Al!\ 'I-:!,'. 

Charlie  with  others,  some  seventy-live  in  all,  in  and  about  Col 
chester.  Connecticut,  paid  in  s'ilX)  each,  bought  the  barque  Selma, 
Orrin  Sele\v.  Master,  set  sail  for  California,  April  llth,  1849,  and 
arrived  in  San  Francisco  the  following  October  5th.  (The  following 
is  from  his  friend  Plumas.'i  He  was  sick  from  <ly-rnteiy  on  shipboard, 
and  did  not  leave  the  vessel  till  the  i:Jth  of  February.  1S50.  when  feel 
ing  a  little  better  lie  went  up  to  Plumas  City,  worked  a  little,  but  his 
old  malady  returned  on  him.  But  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  a 
claim  owner,  lie  went,  though  yet  feeble,  some  seventy-five  miles  up 
Hie.  Middle  Yuba.  to  hold  by  possession  the  claim  the  said  owner  had 
purchased.  He  had  no  tent,  and  was  not  able  to  build  one — even  of 
biush.  His  "wayside  acquaintance."  whom  he  had  engaged  to 
help  him  in  his  claim  work.  \\as  away  ••prospecting:"  and  thus 
Charlie  was  left  alone  to  die  of  enteric  inflammation,  on  the  bank  of 
the  Yuba.— See  page  48. 


— THE    END. 


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